A woman with tragic beginnings finds love and her voice on her way to stardom...will the spotlight dim her hard-earned shine? From the day Layani Cherise Bell was born, the world was betting against her. Born four months premature, the doctors didn't expect her to make it, but she did. At the age of six, Layani was diagnosed with leukemia. Again, the doctors gave her a death sentence, but she survived. As if that weren't enough, at the ripe age of thirteen, she lost mother and father in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. With no family willing to step up and care for her, she was put into foster care. Alone and afraid, Layani befriends and later falls in love with Micah Jones, another kid forced into the system after tragedy strikes his family. Not one to cry over spilled milk, Micah passes his time away in foster care by making beats for local artists and daydreaming about becoming a super producer. After hearing Layani sing better than some of the greats, he devotes all his time and energy to making her a star. With hard work, dedication, and his encouragement, she's destined for greatness. After a chance encounter with the charismatic CEO of a major record label promising to fulfill Layani's wildest dreams, it seems that she and Micah are well on their way to the top. However, the label has no room for another producer. Micah convinces his woman to go on to superstardom without him, and Layani is famous overnight. She has the world at her fingertips, and everything is perfect until living life in the spotlight hits her like a ton of bricks. Can she remain grounded surrounded by lies, drugs, and scandal...or is she willing to lose who she is to become who she's always wanted to be?
Release date:
May 25, 2021
Publisher:
Urban Books
Print pages:
288
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From the day Layani Cherise Bell fell from between her mother’s legs, the world was betting against her. Born four months premature, the doctors didn’t expect her to make it, but she did. At the age of six, Layani was diagnosed with leukemia. Again, the doctors gave her a death sentence, but she survived. As if that weren’t enough, at the ripe age of thirteen, she lost her mother and father in a head-on collision with a truck driver who had fallen asleep behind the wheel of his big rig. Although her mother had two sisters and her father’s mother was still alive, no one on either side of her family tree wanted to bear the burden of raising someone else’s child. Therefore, she became a ward of the state just hours after the accident. Due to being bounced around and lost paperwork, she wasn’t even permitted to attend her parents’ funeral.
For the first time since birth, Layani was all alone. Every waking moment she spent without her mother and father made her want to lay down and die. However, she knew her mother would be angry if she were to ever give up, so day by day, she pressed forward.
“Don’t you know you’re a fighter, girl?” her mother, Georgia, would say every time life dealt her precious daughter a low blow.
“Yes, ma’am,” the shy child would always reply.
“Then hold your head high, put your dukes up, and yell bring it on!”
Just the thought of her mother’s voice put a smile on Layani’s lips and caused several warm tears to trickle from her large doe eyes down her cocoa-complected face. Usually, she brushed the waterworks away in a hurry, as not to let the other kids know she was crybaby. Today, however, she chose to let them fall freely. Maybe it was the gloomy morning weather peeking through a crack in the blinds, or maybe it was the fact that her birthday was the next day. Whatever it was had her in her feelings.
Soon Layani’s soft sniffles turned into loud sobs. She tried to suppress the sound by burying her head into the paper-thin pillow resting atop her twin-size bed, but it was useless. Not wanting to wake her roommate Angel, Layani forced herself from the bed that was too small for her growing five-feet-six-inch frame. Carefully, she took the ladder down from the top bunk and planted her feet firmly onto the carpeted floor.
As soon as Layani put her hand on the doorknob, she could hear a car door close from outside in the driveway. The distraction was enough to stop her tears momentarily as she headed over to the bedroom window to be nosey. Resting in the driveway was a familiar older model gray Buick. Its owner, Mrs. Gail, walked up to the walkway with a briefcase in hand. Layani knew seeing the old, slender social worker on a Sunday was never a good sign.
Tiptoeing over to the bedroom door, she opened it slightly and listened as Mrs. Gail and Mr. and Mrs. Daniels exchanged pleasantries downstairs. After a few moments of small talk, Mrs. Gail explained that the state audited their records and realized the maximum child occupancy for a home their size was six, which meant they were over by one. Consequently, she would have to remove the additional child and place them at another home. Mrs. Gail also advised that they could at least keep the children of their choice, but the decision had to be made immediately.
Layani eased the door closed as her heart began racing uncontrollably. She’d been with the Daniels for almost the entire two years she’d been in the system. The first home she was placed in caught fire four months after her arrival. Though things weren’t bad there, she knew being placed with the Daniels was a blessing. For starters, they treated each of their foster children like family, even the most troubled ones. Mr. Daniels took time out of his busy day as an E.M.T. to spend time with all the kids by taking them to and from after school programs such as karate, cheer, and band. Mrs. Daniels always made sure the children had help with homework, well-balanced meals, and clean clothes to wear daily. The entire family even went to church on Sunday. Being with the Daniels had given Layani’s life the structure she’d been missing. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing them because it would almost be like losing her parents all over again.
Hearing footsteps and light chatter coming up the stairs, Layani flew back to her bed with lightning speed. She climbed into her bunk and tossed the covers over her face just in time for a knock on the door. Seconds later, the door opened and Mrs. Gail stepped into the room. Layani’s eyes fluttered as she tried to play sleep, but it did no good.
“Layani, wake up. I need you to come with me.” Mrs. Gail shook Layani lightly.
“Huh? Why?” She yawned, still pretending.
“I’ll explain in the car. Grab your things.”
“I don’t want to leave.” Layani sat up and dropped the act. “Why do I have to leave?” She turned her attention to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, who were standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, Layani. The state said we can’t keep all of you.”
“I’ve been here for two years!” Layani stated as a matter of fact while jumping down from the top bunk. “Why me?” She wanted to know.
“Layani grab your things now, please,” Mrs. Gail instructed. She’d been a case worker for three decades. She knew this was about to go left fast if she didn’t get things under control.
“I’m sorry.” Mrs. Daniels ran away from the room, bawling her eyes out, yet the tears meant nothing to Layani.
“Maybe you can tell me why?” She walked up to Mr. Daniels, who’d turned red in the face. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Layani, that’s enough,” Mrs. Gail hollered.
“I swear to God on my parents’ grave, I’ll work harder in school. I’ll cook and I’ll clean,” she pleaded.
“Layani, I really wish we could keep you, but we can’t.” Mr. Daniels put his hand on her shoulder.
“You can’t keep me, or you won’t keep me?” Layani snapped. “Don’t think I didn’t realize you’re getting rid of the only black kid here!”
“Enough is enough! I’ll give you ten minutes to grab your things or we will be leaving without them.” Mrs. Gail closed the bedroom door, leaving Layani standing in the middle of the floor with her mouth wide open. She wanted to cuss, scream, and fight everybody in the house, but instead she took a deep breath, remembered what her mother taught her, and walked over to the closet to gather her things, all of which fit into one small, pathetic duffle bag.
Before departing, Layani grabbed a notebook and pen to leave a goodbye note for the friends.
“Layani, are you leaving?” ten-year-old Angel asked from the bottom bunk. She was a hard sleeper; therefore, she’d missed the whole commotion.
“Yes, Angel, I’m leaving. They said I have to,” she whispered to her roommate, who was more like the little sister she never had but always wanted.
“But . . . but your birthday is tomorrow.” Angel wiped sleep from her eyes. “We were supposed to go out for ice cream, remember?”
Birthdays around the Daniels house were always a big deal. Mrs. Daniels didn’t really give the children treats that contained sugar, except for special occasions. Therefore, all the children loved birthdays.
“Yeah, I remember.” Layani tried to keep her voice steady. “I guess we’ll have to do it another time, okay.” She walked over to the bed, bent down, and hugged the girl that had been her roommate for the last two years. Angel was wheelchair bound, so getting up from the bed without assistance wasn’t happening.
“I don’t want you to go.” She began to cry softly.
“I don’t want to go either, but I have to.” Layani wiped Angel’s tears as her own began to fall.
“What am I going to do without you?” Angel was devastated. Layani was her best friend, confidant, and protector. She always pushed her chair and helped her get in and out of the bed. Layani looked after her without making her feel like a cripple.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be together again.” Layani doubted they would ever see each other again, but she wouldn’t dare say that.
“Do you promise?” Angel held out her pinky, and Layani wrapped hers around it.
“I promise!” She gave the girl one last hug, flung her bag over her shoulder, and headed out of the room with her head held high.
Standing in the hallway conversing were Mrs. Gail and Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. They stopped talking abruptly and looked at her with apologetic glances.
“I’m ready.” Layani rolled her eyes at the Daniels while addressing Mrs. Gail.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Mrs. Daniels asked with her arms opened wide for a hug. Layani descended the stairs without so much as even looking in the Daniels’ direction.
“Goodbye!” Layani hollered with much attitude upon reaching the front door. Before she stepped outside, she turned and flipped Mr. and Mrs. Daniels the bird.
Though disappointed, Mrs. Gail smirked inwardly. She, too, had to admit it was a little sketchy of the white couple to rid themselves of their only black foster child. Yet and still, she apologized for Layani’s behavior and thanked the Daniels for their hospitality.
Once inside of the smoke-scented car masked by air freshener, Mrs. Gail tossed her briefcase onto the back seat that was filled with everything from stuffed animals to extra clothing and a first aid kit. In her line of work, you had to be prepared to console a child, clothe a child, and make a boo-boo feel better in a moment’s notice. With condemning eyes, she turned to face Layani.
“Mrs. Gail, please don’t start with the lectures. This ain’t fair and you know it.” Layani fastened her seatbelt and crossed her arms, refusing to look at her social worker.
“Baby, life ain’t fair.” With a sigh, Mrs. Gail placed her wrinkled hand over Layani’s. “The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be. The world doesn’t owe you nothing.”
Gail Henry had seen her fair share of things over the years. She felt bad for each and every child she came in contact with on the job, especially the ones like Layani, who’d ended up in the system by default, but she knew this too would pass. “Bad times are like storms in our life. We’ve just got to remember they don’t last forever, and there is always a rainbow after the rain.”
“It’s been raining in my world for two years, though.” Layani gazed out of the window with disdain. She was tired of the shuffle and tired of the uncertainty. She desperately wished she could go back to the fateful day that had taken her parents out of this world; if not to change the outcome, then to at least put herself in the car with them.
“Death has to be better than this,” she whispered.
“Don’t say things like that.” Mrs. Gail put her key in the ignition and started the car. “This right here is temporary, but baby, death is forever. I’m pretty sure there are some children in the graveyard wishing they could trade places with you right now!” She paused and tried to regain composure. The job, case files, and innocent faces of those she had encountered over the years were beginning to take a toll on her. Being the first point of contact in these heartbreaking and gut-wrenching situations had become too much.
Just last week, she’d attended funerals for three children who had been beaten and dismembered by their own mother after a psychotic episode. After receiving a call from a concerned teacher, she’d been assigned the case. Although she couldn’t put a finger on the problem right away, she knew things were amiss. For four months, Gail pleaded with her boss remove the children from their home. However, due to lack of evidence, the state could do nothing more than random wellness checks. Gail felt guilty for not doing more, but she didn’t mean to take her frustrations out on Layani.
“You will age out of the system in three years. Use this short amount of time to do something productive.” She reversed from her parking spot, put the car in drive, and pulled off. “What are you good at?”
“I’m good at drawing, but I really like to sing.” Layani replied after giving the question some thought.
“Sing me your best song.”
“I can’t sing in front of people. I’m shy.” Just the thought of singing aloud caused butterflies to form in her belly.
“You can’t say you’re a good singer if no one has ever heard you sing besides you.” Mrs. Gail laughed, and Layani joined in.
“My mother used to say I sounded like Whitney Houston.” Once again, Layani’s unhappy eyes peered out the window. That’s when she spotted the ice cream parlor where the Daniels had promised to take her the next day.
Mrs. Gail followed her gaze and decided to pull the car over. “I’m not supposed to do this, and if you tell anyone, I will deny it.” She put the car in park. “Since it’s almost your birthday though, I’ll make an exception this one time.” With a wink she grabbed her purse. “What’s your favorite ice cream?”
“I love cookies and cream. What about you?” Layani was so happy to get the small treat that it temporarily took her mind off her troubles.
“I’m more of a strawberry girl.”
“So was my mom.” Layani smiled as they got out of the car and walked up to the window of the small parlor to give the teenage boy dressed in a red-and-white-striped uniform their orders.
“Let’s sit over here.” Mrs. Gail pointed to a seat on one of the picnic benches resting beneath the awning of the parlor. “I haven’t had ice cream in years,” Mrs. Gail admitted. Her hectic schedule didn’t allow for much social time, which was part of the reason her husband had left her eight years ago.
“Really? What about your grandchildren? Have they gone years without ice cream too?” Layani inquired.
“Here you are, ladies. Enjoy,” the young man who’d taken their orders said after placing the tray of ice cream on the table.
“Thank you,” they replied in unison.
“Sadly, I don’t have any grandchildren.” Gail usually kept her personal life private, but today she felt like sharing. “My daughter Naomi died shortly after her second birthday.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How did she die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“She drowned in the bathtub.” Mrs. Gail looked away into the distance. “Back then, I worked seventy hours a week, and my husband was no help. I’d just picked Naomi up from the babysitter and decided to kill two birds with one stone by giving us both a bath. With the water still running, I dozed off, and she did too while laying on my chest. The water rose too high and filled her nose and mouth. By the time I woke up, the bathroom floor was flooded, and my precious baby was floating face down.”
For the first time since meeting Mrs. Gail in the lobby of her school two years ago, Layani realized that the social worker was human. Instinctively, she placed her hand over the old woman’s and comforted her the same way she had been comforted in the car.
“Your ice cream is melting.” Layani tried to lighten the mood.
“Apparently, so is my makeup.” Using the back of her hand, Gail wiped her face, which caused it to smear. “I’ll be right back. Finish your ice cream.” Gail tossed her melted mess into the trashcan, then headed into the ladies’ room.
As Layani sat on the picnic bench alone, she began to imagine herself running away. She wondered where she would go and how far she’d get before they found her.
“Slow down, Button!” a short lady with blonde braids called after her small son as he darted across the parking lot toward the ice cream parlor. Layani blinked rapidly before standing to address the woman coming toward her.
“Aunt Nova?”
“Layani?” Embarrassed, Nova Stansfield greeted her niece with a half-hearted smile. “What are you doing out this way, baby?” She picked up the little boy, who kicked and screamed. He wanted ice cream. He didn’t care about their conversation.
“I’m with my worker, having ice cream for my birthday. We’re on our way to my new foster home.”
“Oh.” Nova shifted uncomfortably.
“Mrs. Gail, this is Nova, my mother’s younger sister.” Layani introduced the women after the social worker reemerged.
“Well, hello.” Mrs. Gail nodded. “Who is this little guy?”
“This is Harvard, my son.” Nova fumbled with her large Coach purse. “Layani you’re about to be fifteen, right?”
“Tomorrow I’ll be fifteen.”
“Well then, I got fifteen dollars just for you.” Nova produced the crumbled money proudly, like she was doing something. When Layani didn’t move, she pushed it into her hand. “Please take this gift, baby.”
“Nah, I’m good. Keep your money, Aunt Nova.”
“Baby, don’t be too proud to take the gift. What’s wrong with this child?” Nova asked Mrs. Gail as if she had the answer.
“Aunt Nova, a gift would’ve been giving me a place to stay. A gift would’ve been at least taking me to my parents’ funeral or coming to see me from time to time.” Layani dropped the money. “This ain’t no damn gift!”
“Layani, I wish I could’ve—” She was cut short.
“Yeah, me too!” Without another word, Layani threw her ice cream into the trash and headed to the car. Her actions indicated to Mrs. Gail that it was time for them to go.
After riding across town from the west side to the east side for thirty minutes in silence, Layani finally spoke out. “Can you adopt me?”
Though Gail was startled by the question, she had a ready-made answer. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that, Layani. The law forbids a caseworker to become the legal guardian of a client,” she lied. Truthfully, she could’ve gone through the massive red tape to adopt Layani if she really wanted to, but she didn’t. After losing her daughter, Gail desperately tried again and again to get pregnant, but it was no use. After years of trying, she accepted the fact that being a mother wasn’t for her. Instead of crying about it, she poured herself into work and decided to be there for all the children in her case log, the way she wished she’d been there for Naomi. “I’m sorry honey.”
“Yeah, I know. Everybody is always sorry.” Layani rolled her eyes to keep the tears from falling down her face.
Gail wanted to stop the car and embrace the little girl who’d been dealt a raw hand, but instead, she kept driving. She didn’t want to lead her on in any way or give her false hope.
Moments later, Gail pulled her Buick up to a two-story colonial home in need of a few renovations. “This is it. Are you ready?”
“I guess.” With a shrug, Layani got out of the passenger seat and peered down the sketchy city block. There were five vacant homes surrounding the foster home. Across the street was a park that was no longer visible due to overgrown grass and wild weeds. Layani already knew this place would be hell compared to the home she’d just left in the suburbs.
“Well, come on. We don’t have all day.” Mrs. Gail grabbed her briefcase and walked toward the house. Layani followed her across the dirt-. . .
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