I clicked the link I'd received from Che while Chase was talking a mile a minute to her on Cat's cell.

And as soon as the video clip started, I sighed real loud and said, "It's Celie's thing," and held out the phone for Mike and Kelli to see.

On the screen, Celie was being rushed out of somewhere, maybe court, and into a black sedan. She looked really skinny and fragile, like she was being swept away by a wave of police and lawyers and reporters.

The reporters were yelling things at her but her eyes were sort of vacant, like maybe she was on something for her nerves. I mean, I didn't think she would go back to her drugs of choice on a day like this.

And actually, I didn't believe she was a drug addict or anything. Troubles had stolen her soul. That's the kind of hollow her eyes looked. And when they got to the sedan waiting in front of the court house, she almost looked like she'd forgotten what a car was. Or how to get into one.

She was all stiff and uncomfortable, like she didn't know what foot to step in with. But the police and lawyers closed in around her, and the sedan sped off as soon as they slammed the door, with all these crazed paparazzis running after it.

And then some reporter standing in front of the building said, "We have received no official response to the dismissal of the case from the Sheriff's Department. But earlier this week, a department spokesman did say that there was an investigation underway, and that Deputy Billings would be transferred to desk duty for the duration. Meanwhile, the actress' lawyers have said that they will file a lawsuit against the department for racial profiling and defamation of character."

The big eyed blond infotainment "reporter" was trying to look all serious. But think about what she was being all serious about. I mean, there are millions of desperate people dying from hunger or drowning trying to get across rivers and oceans to safety from wars and outright genocide all over the world while we're watching some talking head serve up the celebrity scoop.

Mike sort of frowned—not for that reason, though--and said, "Okay, what the hell?"

And one of Celie's lawyers came on next to explain "what the hell" for her. I guess he'd stayed there to do all the talking.

"The judge's statement was right on," he said. "This is a classic case of racial profiling. Despite all the explanations offered, repeatedly, Deputy Billings had made up his mind. Black woman, young white boy, fancy car. It could only be one thing. As for the search, well, 'They usually have drugs,' he said. Did he mean prostitutes or black people or both? We don't know. But we do know a promising career may have ended that night. And we're not going just go quietly."

"He's not saying that she admitted she had drugs," Kelli said.

"Search was illegal's what he's tryin'a say," Mike explained. "Or he took it too far because he just assumed she was out on the ho stroll."

"The what?" Kelli said. I love her. She's such a cute, clueless little white girl sometimes. I mean, I love her to death, but you can tell she grew up in one of those "made for TV" families in the 'burbs somewhere.

So I said, "That's like, walking the streets—the track, you know? Pimps call it the ho stroll. But she's saying it's sort of like what we were talking about, with the poisoned tree thing. Once he got the wrong idea about her, everything he did after that was wrong, too. So the charges had to be dropped."

"You sure, though?" Mike asked.

"If they weren't, they will be," Chase said, still on the phone with Che but listening to us, too. "They don't need the kind of publicity they're getting, for one thing."

"Neither does she," I said. I was thinking of how dead she looked. What was probably going through her mind. And I was sort of ashamed that I hadn't thought about her at all, to be honest, while I was sick. Things were coming back little by little now, and in the order of importance to me, personally.

But how what happened to her was partly my fault. Mostly hers, but I was the one who hauled her out there to drive around with me. I couldn't just abandon her. The rest of the world had done that. Somebody had to act right.

I heard Chase chuckle and go, "Good God Almighty." And then he came over, smiling like he was real relieved.

"So we're safe for now," he said. "I was sure it was Friendly."

"He was a dick, though, the cop who arrested her," I told him. "And also they're right about the profiling. He told us who we were. Got all smarmy about it, too. I wanted to slap him upside the head, but he woulda loved that. Havin' a reason to lock my ass up, too."

"Well, here's the deal, tough guy," Chase said. "What you saw, what he said, did she have drugs, did you know she had drugs--no comment, okay? Che's done the press release. Check your home page. But that's it for you. Good?"

I gave the statement a quick look and clicked the little "Send" box she always put at the bottom to expedite things. There's also a "Hold" and "Discard" box, with little comment boxes right underneath them. But I almost never use them. She can do that kind of writing in her sleep, Che. And makes me sound good, too. I wish I talked the way she writes.

I tossed my cell aside and exhaled all loud. And Chase said, "Yeah, no shit. I thought we were goners."

"Were those our lawyers, the ones who handled her case?" I asked.

"New guy, yeah. I haven't met 'im yet, but I've heard good things from the interns who worked it with him. She fired hers, remember?"

"Yeah, that's why I asked. You haven't heard anything else about her, though, right? Where she went, what she's up to?"

Cat said, "Don't." I was hearing that a lot that day.

But I said, "We made a deal. And I like the script. Wyatt did, too. I don't have to like her or even deal with her to get that done."

Chase laughed and said, "You can't seriously be trying to argue with this guy. Heart on sleeve, 24/7. It's her legal defense fund, right?"

"He's paying for her legal defense," Cat said.

"Well, a girl's gotta have wardrobe'n' whatnot," Chase said. "To make a good impression. And it must've worked. She went home today."

"Yeah, well, just find out what's up," I said. "I mean, think about it. She was messed up even before that cop came along. And now the whole world's laughing at 'er, prob'ly. You know how they are. Press and public, both. They're like sharks. But that movie could be her comeback. Let's make it happen."

LeeAnn messed up my hair and said, "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

And Cat said, "Well, we can stop worrying about 'im, though. He's back doin' his Superman thing, finally. Fighting for truth, justice and the American way."

"And damsels in distress," LeeAnn said.

"From self-inflicted wounds," Cat said. Staring me dead in the eyes. And signifying 'way more than just Celie.

And I was going to come back at her with something until I saw Tyler sucking on the flash drive like a pacifier. So I grabbed it and said, "Dude! That's so gross."

He just gave me one of his gurgly laughs. So I wiped it off on the bed sheet, which was even worse, and then crawled over to my nightstand to get my laptop and popped the flash drive in. And right after I clicked on the "WATCH ME" icon, I couldn't help but crack up.

It was a video. With credits and a theme song and everything. "This Is How We Do It," was the song. Montell Jordan. One of my top jams.

And dancing and goofing around behind the credits was Lakesha and a whole bunch of kids from DeGrazia. I recognized some of them from my classes, including the guy with all the makeup on, who was definitely ready for his close up in his bad black t-shirt and jeggings. You could tell he'd just had his hair fryed, dyed and laid to the side as Joie would say.

Joie. Soon as I thought about that, I started missing her, too. But she'd stayed in Vegas to get the whole production nailed down. I knew she'd called a lot, though. They were using phone records to send email updates to some people. Che thought of that, too. That and special Facebook and Twitter accounts that ran little news blurbs all day and night. Hooray for social media.

Anyway, after the credits had rolled by, they did a close up on Lakesha.

And she waved and went, "Hey, pretty! We sure do miss your fine ass over here at school."

And all the girls—and the girlish guy--started clowning around, waving and blowing me kisses and whatnot while the boys rolled their eyes and gave them the stink eye.

And then Lakesha started slapping at the girls and telling them to, "Hush up that noise! We got to do this, now! She got a class comin' in here nex' period!"

And then she regrouped and got her camera face back on. And said, "Miz Taylor say you havin' a lil' trouble wit rehab, so I—"

"WE," one of the girls says.

And Lakesha barked, "Bitch, shut up!" But then she said, "WE made this for you to workout wit. It'll put that dip back in yo' hip, son! Ya' heard?"

"C'mon, les' git buck, y'all!" one of the guys yelled. And then him and all the guys started doing that dog bark thing guys do, like, in the huddle at football games and stuff.

Which is when they cut over to all of them dancing to that "Watch Me (Whip/NaeNae)" song that just goes "Watch me whip! Now watch me Nae Nae" over and over and over again. And you can laugh if you want, but at the time the damned thing had 165 million hits on YouTube and it probably sold that many units, too. The whole world was Nae Nae crazy the summer before all this crazy shit happened to me.

But they did it 'way better than the people in the official video, those DeGrazia kids. Put some extra stank on it. In fact, they'd done little routines to a whole bunch of dance songs. Even old ones like the Twist and that stupid Macarena and all. The idea was for me to dance along with them, right? It was my own personal workout video.

So I had Mike go find Glenda. And then I started it over from the beginning.

And after she watched for a little while, she pretended to reach for the flash drive and said, "Oh, you're in big trouble now, mister."

I slapped at her hand—just playfully.

And she said, "No, seriously, can I get a copy?"

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Let's see if it works," Mike said.

And she came and pulled me up on my feet before I could say anything. And we found out that I could do the "break your legs" part and the "bop, bop, bop" thing pretty well as long as she held on like that and I didn't get down into it like I would've on the dance floor. The "Whip" and "Nae Nae" got tricky because of some tender parts in my back and belly, though. I had to wave my arms sort of low and careful. I teased that I was "doin' it Kelli style," and she turned all red.

But when Chase busted a move I just fell back down laughing. He could do the thing, though. I mean, for real, he knew the all the steps. So pretty soon everybody in there but Kelli was up, dancing around like a buncha lunatics.

Even this custodian dude walking by started doing the Nae Nae down the hall. I would've paid money to see the patients and staff and visitors trying to figure out what the hell he was doing out there. But then, like I said, the whole world was doing it, so they probably knew.

When the song ended, Glenda touched the "Play" button on the screen to pause the video, and said, "All right, I hate to be a party pooper but this young man could use a little R & R right now. Doctor's orders. And the little ones are apparently due back in just a few minutes, right? That's what they've been buzzing about. The case workers."

"They're still here?" Kelli said.

"Yep. Outside pouting."

Chase said, "I'm on it," and rushed out. And then Mike and Cat decided they'd better go eavesdrop.

And just like that, I wasn't in a party mood anymore. Especially when Kelli got up, sighed and started gathering up my babies' things. I held the kids 'til the very last second. And then I hauled myself up and helped her get them in the stroller.

I was watching Chase and the girls and the case workers having a pretty vigorous little "confab," when it hit me that Mike had never told me what Aisha said. If it was Aisha she'd been texting that time.

So I grabbed my cell and typed the "911" number that would ring Mike's phone all crazy. We all had specific "emergency" numbers that played crazy ringtones we couldn't easily ignore when we heard them. And they always rang, even when we silenced everything else. I don't know how they worked that, but they did.

So I saw her go for her cell right quick and walk off from the circle to concentrate on whatever was happening.

And when she heard me go, "Yo!" she said, "What's wrong?"

And man, I hated that they were trained to be scared like that. Of me. Or of what might be happening to me.

So I quickly said, "You hear back yet? From Aisha?"

"She said she'd call you after she got there."

"She leave already or what?"

"Pro'bly on her way to the airport. Flight leaves in about...40 minutes or so."

"Yeah, well that's not happening," I said. "You guys take the kids home and then bring that car right back. Park it in that overflow lot and wait for me."

"You can't—" she stopped there, looked toward the building, and then lowered her voice to say, "What'd we just say about that?"

"Just do it! I'm not kidding around, okay?" I said. And then I hung up and started dialing Walter, the dude who schedules our flights.

And he goes, "She's not gonna like that," when I asked him to come up with an excuse to delay the flight for a few minutes.

So I said, "You like workin' for us?"

Now, he could tell I was just teasing him. I would never say that to anyone seriously. And they all know that. But it was The Boss teasing him. So he knew there was some truth beneath that little chuckle I hid it in.

So he said, "I'll come up with somethin' scary enough to keep 'er from biting my head off."

"Now we're talkin'," I said.

And the other two did what I asked, too. I saw the car roll into the big front parking lot and keep going. So I scooted down to one of the side doors. Told the only nurse I passed that I was going to sit out on the grounds by this trail they have that you can run or walk when you get strong enough.

It looks like a park out that way, with benches and fountains. A lot of the patients go sit there to get out of their rooms. I had a big room that didn't box me in so much, but they'd been after me to get out more, so I knew they'd be all excited to see me doing that all by myself. And as long as I had the scooter, they wouldn't worry about me tiring myself out.

So I gave the nurse a little wave and went on down the hallway and out. And the girls eased up not quite all the way to the door. And we were gone in a couple of minutes.

And here's how it went down at the airport. Pretty classic.

Aisha got on the plane and went to sit in the little lounge in back. How I know, I'll tell you in a minute. But just as she was settling in, the pilot made an announcement that went:

"Captain Rick, here. I'll be back with the usual instructions and travel times in just a moment, but first, we have a special announcement."

And she rolled her eyes and turned to Carol, the attendant, and said, "We ain't gon' be stuck here no longer, are we?"

Carol gave her one of those fakey flight attendant smiles but that's when I clicked my headphone mic on—I was peeking out of the cockpit door—and I said, "You're stuck here 'til you hear me out."

And she went flying up the aisle so fast that I was barely up to the first row before she grabbed hold of my arm and said, "Lord, Papi, you cain't be out here foolin' around like this! Come siddown!"

But I pulled away, planted my hands on the arms of the seats on either side of me, and sank down to my knees. And I have to tell you, after Nae Nae-ing around earlier, my legs were wobbly as hell. Not quite the impression I needed to make at the time.

But I got down there, and when I looked up she was wiping tears before I even said anything.

So I said, "I'm gonna stay down here 'til you tell me you'll at least gimme a chance to plead my case."

And she went, "Git up off the flo', baby. Don't do this," and tried to lift me up.

But I said, "What'd I just say?"

And she gave me this little trembly smile and said, "You'n' me don't have to explain nothin' to each other."

"Then why are you leaving me?"

She grabbed hold of me under the arms and started trying to lift me up again. Going, "Lord, child, git up off that flo' now, okay? Lemme help you."

So I planted my hands again and rose up real slow and careful. And she helped me sit down and then she sat down in the seat facing me. But then she moved over right next to me and took hold of my hands.

And over the intercom, Rick said, "Everything okay in there?"

And Aisha yelled, "Gon' be in a minute!"

"Take your time," he said.

And I told her, "He's not leaving 'til I say so. And I won't say so 'til we've worked this through."

So Aisha gave me this little "pout" and said, "Well, I'm still mad."

But her eyes didn't look mad. They looked relieved. So I raised the backs of her hands up to my lips and kissed them.

And I said, "You really scared me."

"How you think I felt?"

"Well, I'm sorry. More than sorry. I can't even express what I really want to say to you, except that I love you and I couldn't make it a day without knowing you loved me. Don't you know that?"

Tears started running down her cheeks then. And she said, "Baby, you was right to stan' up for yo' woman. I know that. But she know the same thing I know. Tol' me herself."

This took the conversation in an unexpected direction for sure. I frowned and said, "Told you what, exactly?"

"She scared they gon' start to wonder about you two. The case worker'n' judge'n' ere'body. That's what she wanted to say that night, I guess."

"That's not what she said, though. She just...ran."

"Couldn' nobody look into those eyes'n' say 'Goodbye' to you. You saw me today, din' you? I ran, too."

I sighed and shrugged and said, "Felt like 'Goodbye,' though. Both times."

She reached up and started combing through my hair with her fingers.

"Thing is, you got too many things goin' on, too many people watchin' ere'thing you do," she said. "You don't wanna think about it, cause you don't never like to give up on nothin' or nobody. But she know. An' if them case workers'n' that judge fine out what'cha'll been up to, you gon' lose ere' thang you been tryin'a 'complish."

"And Wyatt said this?"

She nodded, looking kind of sad.

"Cat called me'n' put 'er on the phone. She tol' me she the day that she saw that damned drone in the window, she knew you were takin' too many chances."

"She never once said it like that."

"Woman din wanna say all she was thinkin'. After all you done for her. I don't blame her, neither."

"Sounded like you blamed her for everything."

"Aw, Papi, I like her. I do. An' I know she love you, too."

"So how come every time she came to see me, it got like the North Pole in there?"

She sighed and shrugged and said, "Yeah, I know. But think about it for a minute. She the one you went runnin' after that night you'n' Celie got into trouble. She was there the night Maddie done that to herself. And then there's all that trouble that happened to her at school and at her house and on the reservation before that. Trouble jus' follows 'er every which way. And you don't need any more'n' you already got—that's her words, too. I mean, I cain't talk all classy like she do, but I know what she was sayin', though."

I didn't want to talk back, even though I was dying to ask her more about what Wyatt said and did. What I wanted wasn't important just then. It was all about Aisha.

She touched my face and looked me deep in the eyes, mostly to see if I was getting tired, I think. And she said, "I know sum else, too."

And I smiled and said, "Oh, you do, do you?"

But she was serious. She kept gazing at me like that, and said, "I know all children have that last fight, that one big fight wit they parents. Some of 'em even hit, you know? Boy child'll haul off and sock 'is father, testin' 'im, lettin' 'im know he a grown ass man now. I tol' my mother she could whup me with that belt if she wanted, but I wun gon' shed not one tear, never again. And she tried to whup all the skin off my legs that day, but I didn't make a sound. Didn't even flinch. And after that, she knew she din' have no control over me at all. Wun nothin' she could scare me wit. We was even."

"Oh, izzat what this was?" I said. Sort of teasing her.

"Well, we never had no control over you," she said, teasing back. "Lil mannish boy. But you would listen."

"I still listen. That hasn't changed."

"Yeah, but you cain't be my baby forever. Cain't be my joystick neither," she said, which I have to admit just cracked me up. Joystick. Like the old 70s song. Which...is what I'd been, let's face it. To all three of 'em. Not complainin', of course. I mean, let's get real while we're at it, right? We'd had some fun, her, me and the other two. It was sort of rough thinking that we might never get to do it again. Ever. Wow.

She poked me in the chest and winked and said, "You good at it, too, Lord knows. Don't nobody do me like you. An' we ain't gon' fool nobody. It's part of our reputation, this lil mannish boy livin' it up wit three grown ass women. They don't have to make nothin' up. But you tol' 'em you was done wit it. So we got to be done wit it."

"So...Vegas."

"Well, we'll talk about that. I been thinkin' 'bout it a lot," she said. And then she smiled and started running those fingers through my hair again. Looking at me like she was going to renege on everything she just said. I knew just how she felt, too. Once you start thinking along those lines, certain parts of the body go on auto pilot and it's hard to shut them down.

But she sighed and said, "You ain't my baby boy no more in one way, but in another you always will be. Way you hear mothers say that alla time. You my heart, no matter who else you be wit."

"Backatcha," I said. And I put my whole soul into that one word. So deep it made her cry. And we held onto each other for a long time, trying to fight out way back to solid ground again.

And then she sort of laughed and pulled away and said, "You bet' turn me loose, 'fore I forgit what I jus' said, boy!"

I laughed and held my hands up like she was arresting me or something.

And she said, "You don't have to take it that far. Damn."

So we stole another little hug and then she got up right quick and started straightening up her clothes. Shaking back her hair. Just getting herself together in general.

And I said, "So...you comin' or goin'? Pardon the pun."

And she laughed and said, "You crazy! Swear 'fore God. But baby, I got to have some peace. Jus' a few days, now you better'n' I don't have to be so worried every minute. Can I jus' have a coupla days to get my mind right?"

I smirked. And she bent down and touched my chest with a finger, and said, "I'm like ET, bae boy. Wherever I go, I'm still gon' be right here."

And I said, "Ouch," in my ET voice.

And that made her start crying again. But then I hauled myself up, hugged her, and yelled, "Slick Rick! Have a safe flight, man!"

And Carol came and helped me off while Aisha stood in the door, watching me 'til she couldn't see the car anymore.

Cat--she was driving--turned and said, "So?"

And I said, "This love shit's complicated, man."

And we all just cracked up, after that. I mean, what else can you say? It is.

But if it's love, it can survive anything. Hell, it gets you through whatever the hell you're fighting about, if it's real. If it's real, you know, even when you're fighting, that you're fighting for it, not against it. And that even if you lose the battle, the love will still be there.

So I smiled. And let my thoughts go from Aisha to that other woman we'd been talking about. The one who thought she was going to get away from me.

Boy, was she wrong.