by Desirée
“You’re Jodie from the Carter Boys! Oh my God! Jodie is at my house!” Amber screamed excitedly, quickly pulling out her phone. “Wait until I tell everybody—”
“Get back in the house, Amber,” my dad snapped as he stepped up to Elijah, hand out for a shake. “First boyfriend to come to the house, I see.”
“The last boyfriend,” Elijah corrected, and my dad smiled.
“We’ll see,” he retorted.
I looked at my mom, who smiled sneakily at me.
“What, Mom?” I laughed.
“We need to talk about this, chi chi,” she said, patting my stomach gently as I looked down.
“I know I put on some weight, but—”
“You’re pregnant,” she whispered, and my mouth dropped. “I can see it in your face. You haven’t had any signs? No sickness?”
“Uh, no, because I’m not.” I laughed nervously.
She just smiled with a shrug. “Okay, you’re not. Come on, let’s go in. Yaya has been nonstop about you, baby.”
Let the crazy holiday begin. That entire night was nothing but my girl cousins and aunts swarming Elijah, wanting to take pictures, take him upstairs. Some wanted him to play Barbies with them; others wanted him to talk to their friends on the phone. Once word got out that I brought a man home, it was only a matter of time before my older cousins came through. They were all full-blown Mexican, raising hell as they came at him, speaking Spanish, trying to scare him, but he wasn’t moved. Not one bit. It became an event with my mom’s sisters and their kids coming, wanting to see. So, a three-bedroom house turned into almost thirty people running around in it. By the time anyone got any sleep, it was going on three in the morning. Food was already on the stove being cooked and prepared.
Elijah slept downstairs with the male cousins, while I stayed in my room with my little ones, constantly asking me questions like, “What are his brothers like? Can he really sing? Does he have a lot of money?” To get my point across that I wanted my sleep, I had to cuss them out in Spanish so they knew I wasn’t playing.
Yet, the thing that stood out in my mind that night was the fact that I could be pregnant. I didn’t think I was, because I was still getting periods and I was on birth control. I couldn’t be. I knew I had put on some weight, but that was because Elijah was always constantly taking me out to eat somewhere. Nah, I couldn’t be pregnant. There would have been some sign by now.
The next morning, Thanksgiving Day, it felt like a rush trying to eat, because everyone was preparing to do Black Friday shopping. We had people with plates sitting on staircases, and on floors in the living room, kitchen, and dining room, because there weren’t enough seats. Mom said she didn’t plan to have this many people over, but ever since Elijah showed up, everyone was curious. I had to keep reminding them not to speak Spanish so much, because he and my mom’s side of the family didn’t understand it. Ugh. It was just chaos, but I enjoyed it.
“Okay, let’s go, let’s go! We need to get moving!” my mom called out, holding the door open. “Everybody needs to be ready and in cars in minutes. I want me a smart TV. Now, let’s go!”
“When Mama says go, we need to go!” Dad chimed in, pushing the little ones out as Elijah came up behind me, hand on my lower back. “You guys are not staying in this house by yourself.”
“Daddy!” I gasped, horrified he would even say that out loud.
“I’m just saying. Better be out this house fifteen minutes after us. Yaya will tell me if y’all still here,” he warned, eyes hard on Elijah. “We’re not violating my daughter in this house.”
“Mom!” I let out.
She grabbed her husband, smacking him hard upside the head.
“You were just saying last night you wanted some, and I told you no because Yaya and my nana was here.”
“Ahh, ah ah, okay.” He laughed. “Just be out the house.”
“No problem.” Elijah smirked. Once the last of the relatives were out, Elijah and I headed upstairs quietly, careful not to wake up the two sleeping grandmothers.
“I haven’t really had the chance to check on you to see if you’re okay with all of this craziness.” I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he closed the door behind him. My room was not the typical teenager room. It was straight to the point with a desk, full-size bed, yellow curtains for the window, books everywhere, music sheets stacked on the desk, and a tiny picture of me as a baby stuck to the corner of my mirror. Nothing fancy.
“I’m good. It’s no different from my family, baby,” he said, sitting down on the floor against the door. “That food did me in, though. Shit, a nigga ready to sleep like a baby. Why you don’t be cooking like that?”
“I want to eat healthy,” I said simply, pushing my hair back off my shoulders. I took my glasses off, setting them on the desk as Elijah looked lazily at me. He watched me get up as I slipped my jeans and shirt off, leaving just the bra and panties on as I looked in my closet for something to wear. My stomach was poked out like I just ate a full meal, and jeans right now? They were not doing it for me.
“Aye.”
I turned around, seeing Elijah standing there, already stripped to his boxer briefs, locs hanging freely as he grabbed himself.
“What are you doing?” I laughed as he pulled me to the bed. “Not with my—”
“Yaya already know how a nigga gets down. She was young once,” he said smoothly, grinning like a kid as he pulled me in front of him. We stared at each other before he leaned down and kissed me. “I missed you, baby, and I’m sorry.”
I gripped his neck, bringing him closer as he picked me up, laying me back on the bed in one easy move. We were like two teenagers fumbling to get our underwear and my bra off before coming back together, naked, mouths never leaving each other.
“We shouldn’t be having sex, Elij—”
“Why not?” he whispered, spreading my legs wide and sliding into me ever so slowly. “Ohhhh, shit,” he hissed. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from moaning, but damn, I missed him too. He sat up, looking down at himself before watching me as those hips started to grind slowly in different angles. The headboard was hitting back every two seconds as he pushed harder. I cried out as he smirked. “Got that ass, baby. That’s it. That’s my spot,” he muttered, hitting it again as I gripped the sheets, trying to keep quiet.
He had gotten so good at fucking me that if I was faking it, he would know. I could moan all damn day, but he waited for a facial expression to appear, and as soon as he saw it, he knew he had the right spot, making me cum instantly, which I did. I never lasted more than five minutes. That’s how much we had sex. He mastered having sex with the master of sex. Unbelievable. I had trained him well, but damn. Leaning down against my body, he continued, dismissing my orgasms as irrelevance while I gripped his back, legs wrapped tight around him, enjoying the ride.
“Fuuck, Jordyn, you feel like you were made for a nigga, shawty,” he breathed, going faster. He looked at me, eyes halfway closed, before kissing me, hips still moving as he slowed down.
“Elijah,” I moaned, closing my eyes as he kissed the side of my face gently, dreads coming down on me. “I’m sorry, baby.” I could feel myself about to get emotional as I buried my face in his shoulder, tears trying to come down. I was still in love with him. Even after all of that, hearing him say he didn’t love me, I still felt like he was the only person for me.
He wiped my cheeks before kissing my eyes so gently. “I told you I’m not going nowhere,” he said against my mouth as we kissed again. “Fuck everybody else. Just you and me.”
I looked at him through blurry eyes, still feeling him slowly stroke in me, just out of comfort, because I already knew he came at least twice in me. Sex was the only way we could effectively communicate with each other.
“Do you still not love me?” I asked softly.
He looked me in the eyes before turning away, just kissing me on the chest instead. He couldn’t even say it. How could I follow a man’s actions instea
d of his words, when something as powerful as “I love you” didn’t need any action behind it? Just fucking say it.
“You know how I feel about this, Jordyn. About us,” he mumbled. I nodded. “But, I’m not messing with no other chick. I . . .” He looked at me, kissing me on the side of the jaw as I closed my eyes. “I do—”
We heard a car door slam shut as voices rang throughout the yard. He quickly got up, looking out the window. “Yo, it’s yo’ pops.”
“Oh my God!” I shrieked, jumping up, trying to frantically grab some clothes. “Get dressed! Hurry up before he finds you in here. This whole room smells like sex. Open a window!”
“It ain’t that serious, shawty.” Elijah laughed, taking his time as I heard the front door open.
I quickly grabbed some clothes from the closet and ran to the bathroom, closing myself in it.
“Jordyn Maria!” my dad yelled, Spanish accent thicker than usual.
“Would you stop embarrassing them like that? Move,” I could hear my mom say as I turned the sink on, throwing on some sweats, a bra, and a T-shirt. “Go wait downstairs, Victor. Now!” she snapped.
“She’s my daught—”
“Now!” my mom repeated. “Did you have her, or just lay on your back and make her? Get downstairs now!” I told you my mom was no joke. The attitude was the black side of her; the stubbornness was both black and white.
I heard the door open and close as I poked my head out, seeing my mom walk in with a small black bag. Elijah sat on the bed, shirtless and cool, like it was all good.
“Hey, baby,” she greeted him before handing me the bag, giving me a cold look. “You better tell me as soon as you know.” With that, she walked out, closing the door, with Elijah looking at me, confused.
“What is she talking about?”
I felt the long box and nearly sighed. A pregnancy test.
“Nothing. Go smooth things over with my dad, please,” I told him.
“Why I gotta—”
“Go!” I snapped.
He stood up with a smack of his teeth, throwing on a shirt, and walked out. I took the box out, keeping the sink running as I read the directions. I wasn’t even worried, because knowing my body, there would have been some type of sign that I was pregnant. Anything. So, as I waited for the results, I looked at my stomach in the mirror. It looked ordinary to me, nothing significant besides the extra weight gain. I just needed to get back in the gym. Holidays were always a rough time for me.
Hearing a knock on the door, I opened it a little, seeing my anxious mom waiting outside.
“Oh my God, Mommy, I’m not pregnant.”
“Baby girl, your body is spreading so badly, I don’t know how Elijah didn’t notice it.”
“We eat out a lot.”
“No!” She laughed, pushing her way in as I sighed. “Body-is-preparing-to-have-a-baby type of spread. Look at your hips. And your stomach is sitting low.”
“We just ate a full on—”
I watched her grab the stick, eyes nearly popping out of her head. “Ahhhh! Jordyn Maria! You’re pregnant! I told you!”
My body went numb as she showed me the results on the tiny screen.
“Oh my God! I’m a grandma! I’ve been wanting some grandbabies for the longest! I want to know how far along you—”
“I’m not pregnant,” I said, mumbling to myself as I sat down on the toilet in utter shock. I didn’t even graduate college yet. I didn’t . . . I’d been so careful with the pills. I’d been drinking so much, and . . . I was pregnant by a man who didn’t even love me the way I loved him. If this test came out to be true—and I would be going to the doctor to confirm this for sure—I was getting an abortion, no hesitation. I had already made the decision to not tell Elijah a thing about it. The less he knew, the better.
PART 2:
The Finale
Noelle
“I have to volunteer at a women’s clinic today for my church,” I said to Layla as I finished up my work. I was putting together models’ portfolios and designers’ look books.
“So, you not doing nothing for your birthday? You getting old, Ms. Twenty-six,” she teased. “I’m shocked Shiloh isn’t doing anything for it.”
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I said, changing the subject as I fixed my hair, looking in the compact mirror. It becomes annoying when your friend talks more about your boyfriend than you do. Really, annoying.
“Well, I ain’t really do nothing. Ate with the family, you know,” she said, shrugging with a smile as I looked at her curiously. “What?” she retorted, moving her braids back as her bangles jingled with the movement.
“You slept with that guy we met at the club again, didn’t you?” I pressed before laughing hard. “What’s his name? The one you poured a drink on.”
“Ronny,” she gushed. “He got good head game. What can I say?” She laughed. “We still argue and hate each other to no end, but . . .” She shrugged, and we both laughed. “Girl, speaking of which, he’s here to pick me up. Come out and say hello.”
“I can’t. I have to finish up with this stuff,” I told her regrettably. Did that stop her? No, she just grabbed my coat for me.
“Girl, come on before he cuss me out. I want you to say hello,” she said quickly as I tried to adjust my coat. As you know, I always dress to a T. No imperfection over here. I kept it simple this time, wearing black skinny pants, black-and-gray Michael Kors riding boots, black sweater, with my hair having the side-swoop bang, gently falling to my shoulders, and my MK coat. Makeup was light, with red lipstick, and eyebrows perfectly arched after my waxing session. I was completely hair free all over.
Walking out with Layla, we saw Ronny’s Honda parked out front, smoke coming hard out the back pipe.
“Girl, look at my man and this beat-up car,” she joked. “Nothing fancy like Shiloh’s car I’m sure, but shit, he’s driving. Nigga, get out the car and speak!” she snapped as he rolled the window down, thick cloud of smoke pouring out. “Quit being rude!”
I just waved awkwardly as she turned to look at me, smacking her teeth with a smile.
“So, anyway, is Shiloh getting you or nah?”
“Umm, I drove,” I said with a shrug. “I actually have no clue where he is. Haven’t spoken to him all day.”
“Hmm,” she said, eyeing me. “Interesting. Ronny better not pull no shit like that. I’ll see you later, girl! Oh! Did you need a ride? Ronny can drive you.”
“Shawty, what?” He coughed.
I looked at Layla. What was her deal? “I said I drove today. I’m parked right—”
“Oh! Okay, see ya, girly! Happy birthday!” She waved, hopping in the car, fussing at him as they pulled off.
Wow. I almost wanted to laugh, but then I realized I didn’t care. She was in a competition with someone who didn’t even realize there was one. Please. She didn’t even get me a birthday card, at that.
Walking to my car with my bag in hand, I felt my phone vibrate. I looked at the unknown number. I had no clue who this was, and it was past 6 o’clock. Who would be calling me this late on a Thursday night?
“Hello?” I answered. Getting inside my car, I turned it on to warm it up.
“Hey, this is Michael. I was just—”
My mouth dropped with a gasp. “How in the world did you get this number, Michael?” I laughed. Oh my God, really?
“One of the ladies gave it to me a while back. I just—”
“No one has my number at that church, Michael.”
“Well, when you changed your house number on me, I figured if I wanted to talk to you, just to call your—”
“So, you tried calling my house again? Oh Jesus.” I sighed with a shake of my head. Let go and let God, Noelle. “What’s up?”
“I was calling to say happy birthday,” he said sweetly, and I smiled. “I actually got something for you. I was gonna hand it to you at the women’s clinic, but they cancelled it.”
“Oh, I didn’t even know. Nobody told
me about it,” I said, confused. I should have gotten a call or something.
“Yeah, I just got word, so you should be hearing from someone shortly. Anyway, I was wondering, could I just drop it off at your house, if you don’t mind?”
“I, um . . .” I started, looking around as if someone was watching me. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Michael.”
“Your boyfriend won’t mind—”
“Actually, he would. He’s a little crazy.” I laughed nervously. “I’m almost scared to even be talking to you on this phone for this long. But . . . I do love a good birthday gift. What did you get me?”
“Let me come over and you’ll find out,” he said seductively with a low laugh.
“Oh my God, Michael.” I laughed, slightly turned off. “Settle down with the voice and flirty undertones. If I let you come by, you have to promise to leave immediately once I get it. Okay? You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”
“You shouldn’t be scared of him, No—”
“I’m not,” I said, cutting him off. I was more scared for Michael than myself, but I wouldn’t tell him that. “Just come by, drop it off, and go.”
“A’ight,” he beamed before hanging up.
It didn’t hit me until a few seconds later. How in the world did he know where I stayed in the first place? The moment I pulled up to my house, I could see his car was parked in the driveway, waiting. Looking around, I saw no Mustang in sight, so I parked on the side of the street and slowly got out. I felt like I was cheating, with my heart beating so fast, constantly looking out for Shiloh or any of his friends. They tracked and reported almost everything I did to him if they saw me. He claimed he didn’t ask for them to do it, but I believed he was lying.
Michael stepped out with a thing of pink balloons, some with December 4th on them, and a small black box in his hand. He stood tall, looking like a Calvin Klein model, with a pearly white smile and handsome chocolate face.
