Crazy Selfish Heffa

Mason Truce had become a father.  “A father,” he whispered.  

“Feels good does it?  To be a father?”  Tiny asked, walking briskly alongside his boss as they quickly navigated down the wide pale corridors of Northwestern Hospital, passing bustling nursing staff, interns and an occasional fatigued-looking doctor.  

“It’s a miracle,” Mason chuckled nervously, feeling his excitement mount as they rounded another corner where an anxious Charlayne stood outside the closed door of Devra’s private hospital suite.  Noticing the older woman’s grim expression both Mason and Tiny stopped abruptly in their hurried tracks.

“Is the baby okay?”  Mason asked Charlayne, feeling a sudden heaviness coat his chest.

‘What took you so long?”  Charlayne demanded in a harsh voice.   “I've been trying to reach you both for hours!”

“Mother, I got here as soon as I could,” Mason answered taken aback by Charlayne’s icy glare.

“Sir, you just called her Mother,”  Tiny mumbled, suddenly realizing what he’s suspected all along.  Charlayne was no average dutiful executive assistant.  She was Mason Truce’s mother!  The striking resemblance was no coincidence at all.  Both were tall,  fair-hued, with greenish-eyes capable of breaking glass just by a stare.  They were practically identical in fact; both faces splashed with freckles and topped with the same thick, wavy dark-reddish hair.  

“Don’t you dare mother me, son.  I know your itinerary.  And don’t think for one second I don’t know what you’ve been up to.  And you!”  Charlayne pointed a long elegant finger at Tiny.  “I need a private word with Mr. Truce.”

Tiny glanced at Mason before quickly darting off.

“Is the baby okay?”  Mason asked again, slightly annoyed with himself for blowing his mother's cover,  and yet he was simultaneously growing more alarmed with each passing second.  His mother's behavior was so unlike her usually calm and even demeanor.

“My grandson is simply beautiful.  He looks like both of you when you were born.  It’s Devra,”  Charlayne spat, as if saying his wife's name filled her throat with gasoline.

“What about Devra?”  Mason asked grabbing his mother’s broad shoulders.

“She’s completely rejected him, your son.  After the nurses got him all cleaned up and brought him to her, that spiteful woman refused to look at him.  She wouldn’t even hold him, not for a second!   I’ve never witnessed anything like it in all my years!  I’m so mad I’m shaking right now!  I swear it was all I could do not to strangle her when she flipped her wide back on that bed and turned away from that child.  Her own flesh and blood!  I warned you Mason!  I warned you not to get involved with that family!”  Charlayne was in fact shaking, and much to Mason's chagrin, spitting with each caustic syllable.

“I’m sure she’s just tired.  You said she lost a lot of blood, was unconscious when you found her.  She just needs time.  The pregnancy was very difficult.   Let me speak with her,” Mason moved to open the door.

“She’s gone,” Charlayne hissed over her shoulder.

Mason Truce’s hand stopped mid-air just as he was reaching for the door knob.  "Gone where?”

“No one knows.  I stepped out to visit Mason Jr. and when I came back - poof!”  Charlayne snapped her manicured fingers, “That crazy, selfish heffa was gone.”  

~~~