Teri and Cornell Davis may be lottery millionaires, but so far their lives lack bling.
There are no new clothes or shoes, no marathon shopping sprees or impromptu luxury vacations - yet.
The Englewood couple virtually ended up homeless when they hurriedly moved out of their rented Palisade Avenue home - in anticipation of purchasing their own place - after hitting the jackpot in March.
But five months later, Teri and Cornell Davis are still empty-handed. They hope to receive their $25.4 million lump-sum check from the New Jersey Lottery Commission next week. (The jackpot would have been $42 million if they had opted for payment in 26 annual installments.)
So far, the only sign of the Davises living a bling-bling lifestyle is the Cadillac Escalade Cornell drives, with flashy chrome rims and tinted windows, on loan from a friend.
The delay came after 20 Englewood Hospital employees sued the couple, claiming that the winning ticket actually belonged to them. A Superior Court judge finally ruled in favor of the Davises last week.
It was a bizarre, fun-house-mirror trial, the Davises said, where they heard things said about them that they knew weren't true from people they didn't know at all. The ordeal became all the more frustrating for a pregnant Teri, whose obstetrician also works for Englewood Hospital.
It has been a stressful experience, they say. And only after the money arrives will they be able to celebrate, by throwing a party for their friends and family.
"Everyone keeps saying you're millionaires,'' said Teri, 31, who took a maternity leave from her job as a teacher in the Teaneck public schools shortly after hitting the jackpot.
But right now, "I probably have less money than when I was working."
Friends and family have helped out by giving the couple and their children a place to live. Teri and Cornell, who were married in 2001, have one daughter, Tai, 4, and are expecting another in October. Cornell has a son, Ra, 10, from a previous marriage, who sometimes lives with the family.The drama began right after Cornell Davis, 34, filed his claim in the March 14 Mega Millions drawing. It was shortly afterward that hospital worker Jamal Townes bragged to co-workers that Cornell Davis was his cousin and he was buying Townes a BMW.
The pair aren't related, although Davis and Townes grew up on the same Englewood street. The couple said it was only coincidence that Townes sometimes bought lottery tickets for an office pool at the same location, the Circle Food Market near the hospital.
And since Judge Marguerite T. Simon ruled Aug. 13 that there was no conspiracy, the Davises have spent their time waiting - for their second child to arrive and for their lottery winnings. They have also enjoyed a measure of celebrity: The couple appeared on CBS's "The Early Show" shortly after their court victory and have been approached by other television shows, as well as by an agent who wants to turn their story into a movie.
"The waiting is kind of hard,'' Teri admitted Thursday during a telephone interview.
Playing the lottery was Cornell's $7-a-week fantasy, something to do on a lark just in case fate had something in store for them.
"We've been playing pretty much for years," Cornell said. "Maybe we win; you never know."
Before winning the lottery, the couple led the typical middle-class life. Teri worked as a special-education teacher in Teaneck, while Cornell studied cooking in New York City.
At an interview last week, Cornell wore comfortable but not baggy jeans and his lucky "Shamrock" shirt - which has been retired since the court victory - and Teri wore neutral-colored maternity clothes as they sat in a friend's Englewood home where they were bunking for the night.
The winnings though, brought more trouble than either imagined.
The two left their rented Englewood home in anticipation of buying a new one, but before they could make a down payment, a court held up their check.
Long-lost "friends" started jumping out of the woodwork and gossip about the two raged, Teri said.
"People were just expecting to get money that you haven't spoken to in years,'' she said. "People were more greedy and more concerned about our money than we were."
Richard Weiner, a lawyer for Cornell's ex-wife, Pam Mitchell, left a voice-mail message at The Record the day after the Davises prevailed in court, announcing that she intends to seek higher child-support payments.
This hardly surprised the Davises, who expected that anyone who could, would ask for a piece of their winnings.
"It's so typical of the greed," Teri said. "It's disheartening."
The drama shocked their family, who worried that the courts would find some way to deny the couple what they had rightfully won.
"I've been trying to look strong,'' said Veta Straughn, Teri's mother. "But I'd ride to the park and cry for them and then come back."
When they first won, the Davises started making a list of everything they were going to buy.
"You think about all the cars and how you're going to hook it up," Teri said. "You just start going wild thinking about diamonds."
But as soon as the investigation started, all those plans were put on hold.
Now that everything is cleared up, Cornell said he wants to start a clothing line, maybe called Sugar Hill, with Joe Robinson Jr., the son of Sugar Hill Records founder Joe Robinson Sr. Or maybe a restaurant, since he wants to become a chef. Teri said she wants to continue pursuing her graduate studies in education, and then maybe get back into the field.
But first, they need to find a new home. And not in Englewood - or even Bergen County - where many friends turned out to be something else.
They also need to find Teri a new doctor.
"There's no way in heck that I will allow Englewood Hospital to deliver my child," Teri said.
Then, the Davises want to fade into obscurity after the media flurry over their trial.
"How come we can't be the Joe Schmoes who won the tickets and then got on with our lives?'' Teri asked.
Money does change alot of things, and alot of people,,,doesn't it?