Page 18 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

The embarrassment I felt listening to him tell the teachers, “If any safety issues happen, call me first. You can always reach me. If you can’t, call my detail, who’s always nearby. Safety aside, if my kids come home and say anything I don’t like, I’ll come here and flip this muhfucka inside out. We made a donation to the school as a whole, but if you need anything for your classes, project sponsors, or an event, my wife and I are glad to step in. Just ask, and it’s done. Cool?”I sat near him, wanting to teleport out of my chair, but had to sit stone-faced as he threatened these people and offered our help all at once.

That was my husband in a nutshell; he didn’t play about our safety, and in this life, I understood why.

Once we made it to the school, I slowly crept through the drop-off line and then turned around to tap Zoey. She woke up groggily, and I had Zaire unbuckle her so that she could get out of the car when her teacher opened the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Richardson! Oh my gosh, Zoey, look at these cute little socks!” Her teacher squealed as she lifted Zoey out of the seat, stood her up, and straightened out her dress.

“Good morning, thank you so much! Zoey, have a great day and be good. Zaire and Ziggy, do your best on your test this morning and take your time. I love you.” I bid my morning goodbyes to them all and watched them walk into the school hand in hand as I drove away.

Once I made it out of the parent drop-off line, we turned toward the office so they could escort me there. My phone rang,and I already knew it was my husband calling to do his morning check-in with the kids. He had been in Bolivia for the last month and had been calling them every morning before school.

“What’s up, Ma? Where are my children?” He said as soon as the FaceTime call connected.

“Well, dang husband, I’m just the help? Good morning. I miss you too. I thought you were busy this morning; they just got out of the truck a minute ago.” I palmed my chest sarcastically like I was surprised he didn’t want me.

“Nah, I wasn’t busy. You're not running late this morning.” He chuckled. “You know I miss you, though.” He answered, then told me I looked good in my yellow dress.

We talked like we did every morning before I made it to the Remy Rich Foundation office. My foundation was important to me, and despite my ability to hire someone to manage it, I went there daily. It was everything that I stood for: giving back and women’s empowerment. The foundation helped women with everything from job-readiness and trades training to school scholarships and homeownership, and I even ran a reentry program for women who had just been released from prison.

I was passionate about it. It became something I looked forward to. Helping women change their lives for themselves and their families was beautiful. My passion rubbed off on everyone around me. They noticed and wanted to help by donating and giving me resources. I loved that, for all the bad the Mafia had done, the least they could do was sprinkle a little positivity in the world.

Once I made it to the office, I got out of the truck and left it running so my security detail could take it.

“Mom’s waiting for you to let her know the dates we’re coming,” Zo said, and I nodded to my detail, giving him a quick smile.

“Tell her I’m thinking we could spend Christmas there this year. The kids will be on holiday break,” I responded. We visited Zo’s parents 2-3 times a year. It was important to us that our children love his parents just as they loved mine, despite the distance.

From the side of me, I saw the mail carrier sifting through a large stack of mail at the curb. Our office was right across from the post office, so we were always her first stop.

“Morning, pretty, I’ll take that for you and save you a walk.” I smiled at her.

She handed me the stack of mail. “Thank you, Mrs. Rich. Have a good day.”

Zo and I went back and forth about dates and how long we’d stay in Barbados. I walked through the front lobby and greeted my assistant. She spoke quickly, glancing at her clipboard as she inventoried the many boxes on her desk. I could hear the printer working overtime, printing all the flyers we needed.

Today was a major day at the office because I was having a job fair. Businesses all over the state were coming through in hope of hiring some of the women who had signed up through my foundation.

I flipped on the light, walked over to my desk, sat down, and then locked my purse in the bottom drawer. I was still halfway listening to my husband go over his itinerary as I turned on my computer and waited for it to power on. While I was waiting, I went through the stack of mail. It was nothing unusual: proposals, bills, and postcards. But when I got to the last piece of mail, something stood out to me, and it made the coffee that I had drunk this morning settle in my throat.

The last piece of mail was addressed to Remy Weston.

“Baby-baby. Let me call you back.” I said hastily as I cut Zo off.

“Everything aight?” He asked immediately.

“Yes, I just need to make some calls and get some things in order for the day.” I lied.

“Aight, call me if you need me. Love you.” He said, making my heart swoon.

“Love you too,” I said, disconnecting the phone and staring at the return label. It was from a company I wasn’t familiar with. But I held the envelope in my hand nervously, unwilling to open it right away. I don’t know if I could stomach what was inside. Regardless, I knew nothing good would ever come of me being addressed as “Remy Weston.”

Once I braced myself, I tore the envelope open.

Dear Remy Weston,

We hope this letter finds you and your family well during what we understand may be a difficult time. Our records indicate that you are listed as the primary beneficiary on the above-referenced life insurance policy held by Karlos Weston.

At this time, we have not received a claim for policy benefits. We want to ensure you are aware of your eligibility and have the information you need should you wish to proceed.