The Ugly Side of Me

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  He exhaled. “Rhapsody, this is our last day in Cancún. Can we please not argue? If I said I loved you, I meant it.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and frowned at him. “What do you mean, if you said it? You told me that you loved me, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? I read your face when I wrote it in the sand.”

  Malcolm didn’t comment. His silence confirmed what I already knew. I walked to our names in the sand and erased the word luv with my feet. In its place I wrote the word hates.

  “How about that, Malcolm? Is that a better word to explain how you feel about me?”

  Malcolm stood three feet away from me and made tight fists with his hands, then released them. I could tell he was really pissed and was trying not to hit anything. “That was uncalled for, Rhapsody.”

  I walked past him, and he grabbed my arm firmly. “I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”

  I snatched my arm away from his grip and ran to the hotel. I went up to our suite, fell facedown on the bed, and cried myself to sleep.

  There was no clock in our room, so I didn’t know what time Malcolm inserted his key card and opened the door. It was dark outside, and the band that played by the pool had retired its music for the night. I was lying on my stomach when Malcolm came and put his hand on my butt.

  “Rhapsody?”

  I was awake, but I didn’t move.

  He shook me. “Rhapsody?”

  I turned over to lie on my back and saw Malcolm’s silhouette standing over me.

  He stretched out his hand toward me. “Come with me,” he said.

  Malcolm’s speech was slurred, and I knew he had been drinking. I put my hand in his, and he pulled me up from the bed. Without saying a word, I followed Malcolm down to the beach. I knew it was past midnight, because the moon was high in the sky and the beach was deserted. It was just me, Malcolm, the moon and the stars, and the waves rushing against the shoreline. I didn’t see another soul anywhere.

  “Where are we going, Malcolm?”

  He placed his index finger against his lips to silence me. “Shhh.”

  We came upon a brick wall. Behind it was a secluded place that couldn’t be seen by anyone walking by. Malcolm pulled me behind the wall and began kissing me passionately and wildly. I tasted tequila on his tongue. He must’ve been downing shots all afternoon and evening.

  He drew my tongue into his mouth and savored it. From just the kiss alone, my body became weak. He backed me up against the wall and lifted me up for me to wrap my thighs around his waist. I wasn’t even concerned that someone would walk by and see us.

  Malcolm kissed my entire face. “Do you believe I love you?”

  He was drunk, and I knew it was the alcohol talking. I would never forget the look on Malcolm’s face when he saw what I had written in the sand. But at that moment I needed to feel him inside of me. Against my better judgment, I said the exact opposite of what I really felt.

  “Yes, Malcolm, I believe you love me. Please make love to me right now.”

  He laid me down on the sand, and with each stroke, Malcolm told me he loved me. Tears came to my eyes because I knew he was lying, and come the next morning, while he was nursing a hangover, Malcolm wouldn’t even remember what we’d done or what he’d said to me.

  I looked up at the full moon through teary eyes. I tried to convince myself that Malcolm was making love to me, but I knew better. The stars didn’t lie. They told me Malcolm was only screwing me.

  When he had finished, Malcolm collapsed on top of me and said, “I love you, baby. I swear I do.”

  Everything within me knew better than to believe him. But my heart had already been sold to the devil. I was in love with Malcolm, and deep down in my soul, I was convinced that I was in love all by myself.

  Chapter 38

  Very early Tuesday morning we were packing our things when the concierge called our suite and informed us that a van would be at the hotel in an hour to take us to the airport. Our large suitcases sat open on the bed. Malcolm was at the bathroom sink, gathering his toiletries, when I looked on the floor next to the bed and saw that he’d forgotten to pack his tan flip-flops.

  I picked the flip-flops up and put them on the bed. That was when I saw pink material in the bottom right corner of Malcolm’s suitcase. It was folded with the T-shirt he’d bought at the gift shop. I was curious why the color pink would be in his suitcase. I pulled the material from beneath the T-shirt, and in my hand was a scarf. It looked similar to the one I had found on the floor of his truck, the same one I’d slashed.

  When Malcolm came out of the bathroom with deodorant, toothpaste, and mouthwash in his hands, I held the pink scarf up for him to see. “What is this?”

  He looked at the scarf, then at me. “Why are you going through my stuff?”

  “Never mind that,” I said. “Who is this scarf for?”

  “Who do you think it’s for?” he asked, biding time to come up with a good answer.

  I shifted all my weight onto one leg and glared at him. “I don’t know, Malcolm. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “It’s for my mother,” he said. “I gotta replace the one you cut up. Now, put it back and stay out of my suitcase.”

  I folded the scarf neatly and put it back where I had found it. I knew he was lying, but I couldn’t prove it yet.

  Because all our meals, drinks, and excursions were included in our trip, and because we didn’t make any calls from our room, we had a zero balance at checkout. We turned in our key cards, and the concierge removed the red rubber wristbands from our wrists. The moment we stepped outside the hotel, the driver made his way toward us with the van. I guessed that the other couples who had arrived with us had left earlier or were staying longer. Malcolm and I were the only two headed to the airport.

  I didn’t say anything to him on the ride back to the airport. I purposely gazed out the window, away from him. After we checked our luggage at the airport, I sat waiting for our flight number to be called, with my eyes closed. It wasn’t until we were on the airplane, buckled in our seats, that he spoke.

  “So, what’s your problem?” he asked.

  “You.”

  “How am I your problem?”

  “Let me ask you a question, Malcolm. Do you want this baby?”

  “If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t be with you.”

  That answer didn’t satisfy me. “No, I want you to tell me that you want this baby just as much as I do.”

  He paused. “All right. Since you wanna get into this right now, then let’s get into it. I can’t say that I’m looking forward to becoming a father at my age, but I do accept my responsibility as a father.”

  I really wanted to know what he meant by that statement. “And what’s your responsibility, Malcolm?”

  “Providing for the baby and raising it. Making sure the baby has whatever he or she needs.”

  “As far as what?”

  “As far as food, clothes, Pampers, and stuff.”

  “Well, can you provide a roof over his or her head?” I knew he couldn’t. Malcolm didn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, but I wanted to make him feel less than a man. I wanted him to hurt like I was hurting. I hit him below the belt, but he played it cool.

  “No, I can’t. But there’s a roof over my head, and as long as I got one, then my child will have one.”

  “Do you remember what happened last night?”

  He frowned and knit his eyebrows, trying to figure out what I was talking about. “Last night?”

  “Early this morning, rather. Down on the beach.”

  He smiled. “Oh, yeah. It was good. We have great sex.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Sex? We weren’t making love, Malcolm? Do you even remember what you said to me?”

  “Rhapsody, I said a lot of crap to you. Refresh my memory.”

  A lot of crap? I knew Malcolm’s words were a lie. “How about I refresh your drunk memory? You got me out of bed in the middle of the night, t
ook me down on the beach, and screwed me, but in your drunken state, you tried to convince me that you loved me. And those were your exact words, Malcolm. You told me you loved me.”

  He drew back from me quickly, like he was afraid to touch me, like I had a deadly disease that would kill him if he got too close. “I said that?”

  My stomach dropped. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. When he asked the question like that, I wanted God to abort the fetus I was carrying right then and there.

  Rhapsody, I said a lot of crap to you. Malcolm’s words echoed through my brain. I threw up on the floor of the airplane.

  Chapter 39

  I woke up on Wednesday morning with a migraine headache. Because Malcolm’s mother thought he would be in Cancún until Saturday, he’d stayed with me last night. I’d wanted to tell him to take his butt home, but his manhood had got to my womanhood before the words were able to come out of my mouth. Malcolm was my weakness; I couldn’t deny that.

  I sat up on the bed and ate two crackers and swallowed a half a can of 7UP, then lay back down and listened to him snore for five minutes before I got up to wash my face and brush my teeth. In the kitchen I chased a prenatal vitamin down with a glass of orange juice. I went back into the bedroom and listened to my voice mail.

  “Baby girl, it’s Mama. Your daddy and I made it to the boat. I dropped your postcard in the mail today, but the cashier said we’d be home before you even get it. We love you, and we’ll see you in a week.” Beep.

  “It’s Tuesday morning, and I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to call me. It has been six days, so I guess you still got an attitude. I have been calling and calling, and if you would have answered your telephone, you’d know that your goddaughter caught a bad case of the chicken pox and had to be rushed to the emergency room early Sunday morning. If Chantal could have asked where her godmother was when she needed her, I would’ve told her that you weren’t available.” Beep.

  I erased both messages and immediately dialed Anastasia’s house. She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Rhapsody.”

  “Rhapsody who?”

  “Don’t play with me. How’s Chantal?”

  “Oh, now you care?”

  “I left town on Friday morning, Stacy. I got back late last night, and I just got your message. How is Chantal? Is she still in the hospital?”

  “I wouldn’t be home, talking to you, if she were.”

  “And you say I got an attitude? Just tell me how my goddaughter is.”

  “If you cared so much, you’d have your behind over here, seeing about her, instead of calling on the darn phone.”

  I hung up on that crazy heifer. I swore, Anastasia made me wanna strangle her sometimes. I opened the top right drawer on my dresser and grabbed a matching bra and panty set and took them into the bathroom. I laid my underwear on top of the sink, then pulled my locks back and wrapped a rubber band around them. I brushed my teeth, then took a shower.

  When I stepped out of the shower, Malcolm was still asleep. I got dressed and walked out the front door, with Anastasia’s, Trevor’s, and Chantal’s gifts from Cancún in my hand.

  Twenty minutes later I stood on Anastasia’s porch and rang her doorbell.

  After a few moments I heard, “Who is it?”

  I knew she was watching me. “Ain’t you lookin’ through the peephole, skank? Who do you think it is?”

  Anastasia swung the door open. “If you’re gonna have that type of attitude, then don’t bother comin’ in my house.”

  “You’re the one with the attitude,” I said. “I called to see how Chantal was doing, and you act like I didn’t return your calls on purpose.”

  “Well, where have you been for the past six days?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Can we discuss this on the inside?”

  Anastasia moved out of my way, and I headed straight to Chantal’s nursery. She was in her playpen, chewing on a rattle. Red bumps decorated her face like it was a game of connect the dots. I sat the gifts down next to the white wicker rocker Anastasia used to put Chantal to sleep at night and went to her.

  “Hey, godmommy’s baby.”

  She smiled, dropped her rattle, and reached for me. I picked her up and hugged her close to me.

  “I missed that baby. Yes I did.”

  Anastasia stood in the doorway of the nursery. She leaned against the wall, with her arms folded across her chest. “Well, she can’t tell.”

  I ignored her and sat down in the wicker rocker. I reached in the bag and pulled out the doll I had brought back from Cancún. “Look what godmommy has for you.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Anastasia began. “Go ahead and kiss Chantal’s butt to try to make up for not being here when she needed you to be.”

  I looked at Chantal as she played with the doll. “Your mama is gonna make me cuss her out if she don’t shut up.”

  “Don’t say that to my baby, Rhapsody.”

  I looked at Anastasia. “She don’t even know what I’m saying to her.” I shooed her away with my hand. “Leave us alone. Go in the kitchen and cook something. I’m hungry.”

  Anastasia raised her eyebrows, and she dropped her arms at her sides. “Ho, you still ain’t told me where you been, and you got the nerve to ask for something to eat?”

  “Me and Malcolm took a vacation to Cancún.”

  She took a step farther into the nursery, raised her eyebrows higher, then folded her arms across her chest again. “You and who?”

  “I didn’t stutter. I said, ‘Me and Malcolm.’ And don’t say nothing, ’cause I don’t wanna hear nothing.”

  I couldn’t believe Anastasia left it alone and walked away. I could tell she was pissed, ’cause I heard the kitchen cabinets slamming shut and dishes clashing.

  Chantal felt a bit warm to me. I placed my palm on her forehead and got worried. I stood and took her into the kitchen. “I think she’s running a fever.”

  Anastasia came over to us and felt Chantal’s forehead. “Yeah, she is. I’ll get her medicine.” She left the kitchen and was back in seconds with medicine Chantal’s pediatrician had prescribed and a bottle of calamine lotion.

  “I’ll give her the medicine,” I said and took the bottles from Anastasia’s hand. I sat in a chair at the kitchen table with Chantal on my lap and gave her a half teaspoon of the liquid medicine. Afterward, I dabbed calamine lotion on her sores.

  Anastasia gave me a bottle of milk. “You wanna feed her?”

  I took the milk and Chantal back into the nursery and sat in the rocker. I fed my goddaughter and rocked her to sleep. I laid her in her crib and returned to the kitchen and saw Anastasia sitting at the table, in front of a bowl of grilled chicken Caesar salad and a pitcher of iced tea.

  “She fell asleep really quickly.”

  Anastasia nodded her head. “It’s the medicine. It keeps her drowsy. She’ll sleep for about three hours, but I won’t let her sleep that long. I’ll get her up in an hour.”

  I sat down at the table and filled my plate with salad. “What happened Sunday morning?”

  “She woke up choking. She had a temperature of one hundred one, and her neck was red and swollen. I got scared, ’cause I didn’t know what to do. I called my mother, and she told me to get her to the emergency room. I got Trevor up, and he drove us to West Suburban Medical Center. Her pediatrician met us there. She diagnosed Chantal with chicken pox.”

  “She’s not waking up choking anymore, is she?”

  “No, it only happened that one time. But now I’m paranoid. Every ten minutes that Chantal’s asleep, I go into her room and check to make sure she’s breathing.”

  I nodded my head ’cause I understood how Anastasia felt about her baby. I’d do the same thing.

  We both ate in silence for a few minutes before I remembered the gifts I had brought with me. I went into the nursery, grabbed the gift bag, then returned to the kitchen.

  “I brought you and Trevor something back from Can
cún.”

  “You mean from your freak fest.”

  I chuckled. “I ain’t gonna lie. Malcolm and I did plenty of that.”

  “Did y’all do it on the beach?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s what I wanna do,” Anastasia said. “I think it’s very romantic.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure it is if you’re with a man who loves you, but I wouldn’t know.”

  Anastasia looked at me curiously. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said and gave her the bag. “Yours is the wind chimes, and Trevor gets the bandanna.”

  She pulled the things from the bag and smiled. “Oh, thank you. And I’m sure Trevor will thank you himself. He doesn’t wear bandannas, though. But you might start a trend with him.”

  “When Malcolm tried it on in the gift shop, I liked it on him. I bought Walter and Danny bandannas too.”

  “So, what brought on Cancún?”

  “I was at work Wednesday, going through the interoffice mail, and saw a promotional flyer advertising a cheap package for CTA employees, and I just ran with it.”

  “And you couldn’t call and tell me you were leaving?”

  “What was I gonna call you for? You didn’t wanna talk to me. The last time we talked, you hung up on me, remember?”

  “That’s beside the point, Rhapsody. You know you have a goddaughter, and that’s a responsibility like having a child of your own. Heck, anything can happen. Something did happen.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “I mean, if you’re gonna fall out with me, then keep it on me. Don’t take it out on my child, Rhapsody. Chantal didn’t do nothing to you. I needed to get in touch with you on Sunday morning, and unbeknownst to me, you’re down in Mexico, shakin’ sand out your coochie hairs.”

  I knew Anastasia was seriously trying to make a point, but I couldn’t stop myself from screaming out in laughter. When she realized what she’d said, she laughed herself.

  “Okay, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I meant,” she said.

  Trevor came home for lunch to check on Chantal. That didn’t surprise me, because he was a good husband and father. I wished Malcolm could adopt Trevor’s character.