They’d rather die than see Carolyn get any part of their fortune for herself. Carolyn had known for months about Ernest and his philandering. She knew how his parents really felt about her and also how against divorce they were. Carolyn hadn’t felt that alone in a room full of people since her days working the restaurant scene in Idlewild. Nurses, Ernest’s parents, and doctors circled her, providing for her every need. But no one could soothe the ache of loneliness she felt from Ernest’s absence.
After a horrendous labor, Carolyn gave birth to a perfect little girl, her last baby, by cesarean section. She made sure she got her tummy tucked at the same time. She wouldn’t have wanted to disappoint Ernest by not keeping herself up—even though she knew that Ernest was stepping out with other women behind her back.
The baby girl was a perfect chubby-faced, screaming bundle of joy. She had Ernest’s hazel eyes and prominent chin and Carolyn’s long limbs and button nose.
“Let’s call her Donna, after her great-grandmother,” Ernest’s mother said after she had laid eyes on her granddaughter. “Donna Johnson.”
Ernest’s father agreed, and who was Carolyn to argue with such a powerful patriarch? Whatever the Johnsons wanted, the Johnsons got. Carolyn had learned that the hard way. Still, despite the fact that she physically and mentally exhausted, Carolyn was determined to have a say when it came to her daughter’s name. She suggested that they call the baby Donna Bethann Johnson. Carolyn thought it was a fair compromise, given the fact that she had always wanted to name one of her daughters Bethann after her own mother. She had never told the Johnsons of her desires prior to Donna’s birth. Instead, she’d let them have full control over naming her other two children.
When Ernest finally showed up at the hospital to see his new baby, he smelled of a woman’s perfume and looked like he’d been partying for days. He leaned in to give Carolyn an obligatory kiss, and she turned her face away. It was all she could do to keep from making a scene in front of Ernest’s parents and to hide the hot tears that were threatening to spring from her eyes.
Carolyn tried to hold on to the anger and bitterness she felt when Ernest finally came to her bedside, but after witnessing Ernest hold his youngest daughter with such care and sensitivity, and after watching him seemingly fall in love with yet another baby, Carolyn was once again overwhelmed by that old gushy, head-over-heels feeling for Ernest. It was like when they were in Idlewild, falling in love all over again. Carolyn told herself that night in the hospital that for her children and for the sake of her family, she would do anything it took to make them all happy. It was a promise she would endure suffering to keep.
Things were great for a while after Donna’s birth. Carolyn felt like she’d finally gotten her husband back. In the beginning, Ernest was a doting father and a caring husband. He showered Carolyn with gift after expensive gift. He told her the gifts were to thank her for giving him his greatest gifts of all—his children. He spent hours holding baby Donna, talking and singing to her. He doted on Junior and Desiree too. So much so that Carolyn grew a little jealous of how much attention Ernest showered on the kids, especially the baby. But once again, Carolyn put her feelings aside and tried to make the best of the situation.
Carolyn saw herself as a mother and a wife. There was no more individual Carolyn. The things she wanted, needed, and liked came secondary in her life. Carolyn spent every waking minute pleasing her children and her husband. She lost herself in meeting the needs of Ernest, Junior, Desiree, and Donna. With the help of the hired hands, of course. At some point, Carolyn grew to resent her life. Each day she would struggle to put on a happy face.
Carolyn felt a sense of security knowing that her children would never want for anything, which was the opposite of her own experience as a child. Just like Junior and Desiree, Donna was a trust-fund baby from birth. She was worth more than some celebrities five times her age before she even turned a year old. Carolyn and Ernest gave her anything she asked for . . . materially anyway. And Papa Johnson, which was what Ernest’s father asked to be called, made sure his granddaughter would never have to lift a finger in her life. Just like her siblings, Donna went to private school. She was given dance lessons from the age of two. She had private tennis lessons as soon as she turned five.
Donna was given an allowance of one thousand dollars per week from the time she was thirteen years old. And every year she had a huge, extravagant birthday party, with a guest list of A-list celebrity children. For her Sweet Sixteen, Carolyn flew in dresses from Paris, Milan, and London and threw a party on a yacht that cost more than some celebrity weddings. And once a year Carolyn and Ernest would take Donna and her siblings on vacation to parts of the world their youngest couldn’t even pronounce. But as she got older, Donna realized that nothing her parents gave her could replace spending time with them every day or at least having an occasional sit-down dinner with them, like she’d seen families on TV do. Rebecca was the only person who showed up for school meetings, plays, and trips.
Ernest and Carolyn hardly knew anything concrete about their youngest daughter’s wants and needs as she got older. Carolyn was too busy keeping tabs on Ernest to notice. After a while, nothing Ernest and Carolyn gave Donna seemed like it was enough. They poured money into any activity she picked up—gymnastics, soccer, synchronized swimming, lacrosse, equestrian sports, golf, polo, and tennis. Donna would grow bored and quit. She had grown spoiled and angry.
By the time she was seventeen, Donna was deep into Chicago’s party and drug scene. She fashioned herself as one of the brat-pack socialites from the Gold Coast, the most affluent part of Chicago. After all, she’d grown up with and become best friends with former child stars, the daughters of hotel magnates, and the children of rock stars. Late-night party scenes became her daily life. During those years, unflattering paparazzi pictures of Donna showed up at least two dozen times in People and Us magazines. When confronted, Donna would scream and throw tantrums. Carolyn had admittedly dropped the ball when it came to paying her youngest daughter the attention she was craving. Carolyn blamed Ernest for it all, and he blamed her in return.
“Mother,” a familiar voice called from behind Carolyn.
Carolyn snapped out of her reverie and popped up out of her seat. She cleared away the thoughts of her past life, which had been crowding her mind lately. Carolyn took in an eyeful of her youngest child, who was clearly not a child anymore. She tilted her head and clasped her hand over her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately when she went to grab for her daughter.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look amazing. This time away has done wonders. I am so proud of you,” Carolyn cried, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. Carolyn felt a warm feeling of relief wash over her. She stepped back and gazed at her daughter for a second. Donna finally looked like someone Carolyn and Ernest could be proud of.
Carolyn hugged and squeezed Donna again. “Thank God,” she whispered. She was really thanking God for bringing her daughter back from the brink of death. What would her friends have thought if Donna had succumbed to drug addiction? Carolyn would’ve suffered the worst embarrassment of her life. Carolyn shook off those worst-case scenarios and tried to relish the moment.
It was a miracle that Donna was even alive. The night Carolyn and Ernest had signed Donna involuntarily into the rehabilitation center, Donna had looked like death warmed over. Her skin had been ghostly pale, and dark rings had rimmed the bottom of her eyes. Donna’s dark hair was matted, and her body was gaunt, almost skeletal. She smelled like she hadn’t had a bath in weeks, and her clothes, although expensive, were filthy. Donna had been out on a binge for three weeks, and Carolyn and Ernest had been worried sick and had had people out scouring the entire city for her. It had been the first time they’d come together for anything in years, or at least when people weren’t around to watch them. Ernest had even hugged Carolyn a few of the nights they’d both sat up worrying about their daughter.
Donna kicked and screamed when she first arrived at the center. She cursed at her parents and told her mother she hated her. She screamed and begged Ernest not to let Carolyn sign her into the center. Donna blamed Carolyn for everything. Carolyn was an emotional wreck that night. She also blamed herself for it all, although she knew it wasn’t entirely her fault. Ernest remained cool as a cucumber, as usual. Little did Carolyn know at the time that her husband