The Vows We Break

by Briana Cole

  I’m sure they had been trying to mask their excitement I was moving back in, because now they could spoil their grandbaby. Never mind the fact that Jahmad had just kicked us out and had discovered, quite possibly, my child wasn’t his. Never mind the depression that seemed to settle on me, thick and suffocating, so that all I had the energy to do was drag myself between the bathroom and the bed.

  I had called Jahmad so many times he had blocked me and I hadn’t even bothered leaving messages anymore. I’m sure he received all thirty-four of them along with the twenty-seven text messages. What probably pained me even more was that he had basically written JayJay off. No type of communication to see if he was doing okay. It was as if those results had hardened his heart, and any connection with my son was a connection to me, which he had made it good and clear he didn’t want. He hadn’t even let me explain. He hadn’t even let me tell him the test was fake, at least that’s still what I was hoping, and I had gotten a real one done with true results on the way. And the checks, well, I had done it for Jamaal, slowly building up his little savings account. Couldn’t he see it wasn’t about me? Or did he not care at that point?

  Then, and I had to admit this was what really ripped at my heart, was Jahmad just making an excuse? He had given up Texas for us, for our family, but had he been looking for a reason so he could still go? Maybe it wasn’t even me at all like I was beating myself up for. Maybe it was CeeCee. Jamaal and I were just collateral damage.

  So now my child was without a father. And I couldn’t lie, I was in no better shape myself as his mother; I might as well have been just as absent. I was fortunate my parents loved on him so much I’m sure he didn’t even have time to register my absence. In my condition, that was probably a good thing.

  The knock came again, gentle but persistent, and I finally mustered enough strength to pull myself from the pillows. The sweaty t-shirt and oversize sweat pants were now on their fourth day of wear and by the slight smell, were obviously overdue for a wash. Squeezed in my tiny bedroom was not only my stuff but Jamaal’s, and we had officially taken over the rest of the house as well with toys and baby essentials cluttering the floor and furniture. My room was too small for a crib, not that that would’ve mattered, so my dad had gone out and gotten him some kind of convertible pack-and-play with the bassinet, changing table, and playpen that they had insisted be put in their room. I appreciated them stepping in. I hated to admit I couldn’t see about my son like I wanted to right now with my heart hurting.

  “Kimmy.” My mom had apparently got a little fed up with me not responding and gone ahead and cracked the door. She poked her head through, noticed I was sitting up in bed in a daze, and opened the door all the way. She carried a gurgling Jamaal on her hip, who had found deep interest in the teardrop earrings she wore. “I just wanted to make sure you were awake.”

  I nodded and glanced at my cell phone for the umpteenth time, though I knew exactly what it said. Hell, I had been staring at my screen for the past hour, waiting on something, anything from Jahmad. Still nothing but the clock reading 7:52 a.m. and a fully charged battery.

  “I’m up,” I answered and held out my arms for Jamaal so she could hand him over. “How is he?”

  “He is fine. We just had a bottle. Changed his little stinky butt.” My mama paused and narrowed her eyes at me. “What about you?”

  I shrugged, stalling. “What about me?”

  “Don’t play with me, child. You know what I mean.”

  I sighed my answer, struggling to keep the tears from falling. “Jahmad and I just had a little fight,” I said, skirting around the whole truth.

  My mama kept her eyes level with mine. “Was it your fault?” she asked bluntly.

  That stung, mainly because she was right on the money. “How do you figure it was my fault, Mama?”

  “I’m just asking. You don’t have the most pure of track records here recently.”

  I knew she wasn’t meaning to, but it felt as if she were digging the knife in further. First Jahmad, then the church, and now my mom. I smacked my teeth. “Everything is not on me. You know your little golden child Jahmad is not perfect either.” My mind flipped back to CeeCee, whom I was sure he had called up before I’d even had a chance to pack my shit good.

  “I’m not saying he’s perfect,” my mama said. “But I am saying that man loves you and especially Jamaal and he wouldn’t put you out unless he felt you were to blame for something.”

  Damn, she was right. But still . . .

  “He didn’t put me out per se. My leaving was a mutual decision.” I’m sure that sounded like the half-ass lie it was. A mutual decision to leave wouldn’t have found me back at my parents’ house but at a place of my own. I highly doubted the townhome I had wanted was still on the market so I would need to start my search over again. I would need to start picking up what was left of the pieces of my life. I really had been putting it off. It would make the end of my relationship that much more permanent. I hadn’t been ready to admit that. But now, hell, I didn’t even know anymore.

  “Kimmy, just remember it’s not just about you anymore,” my mama said. “You have a son to think about.”

  “I am thinking about my son.”

  “Are you? Because if so, you need to stop being so damn selfish and start keeping Jamaal in mind when you make decisions. Whatever you do doesn’t just affect only Kimera anymore. You’re not the only one without Jahmad. Jamaal is too. Now what?”

  My head dropped to my son lying on the bed in front of me. He was now occupied with his own feet, sucking his pacifier hard like he expected milk to come out. My mom’s last question echoed in my head. I had asked myself the same thing repeatedly. Now what?

  My mom backed toward the door, pausing in the frame. “Your dad and I are going out for a bit. We got an interested buyer on the church. Take care of my baby.”

  I nodded. “I’m taking care of him, Mama.”

  “I’m talking about you now,” she said and closed the door behind her, leaving her words in the room.

  * * *

  I had missed calls, but these weren’t the ones I was waiting for. Disappointment clouded my heart as I swiped through the notifications. No Jahmad. All Leo.

  I honestly had forgotten all about meeting him after my argument with Jahmad. And now, just seeing his name come up on my phone screen sent waves of anger coursing through my body. It was because of him I was in this shit. Sending me that damn test in the first place let me know he was just trying to stir up trouble. Him and Tina’s ass. Hell, probably both of them together. Our last conversation played in my mind.

  He had said he needed to talk to me in person when I brought up his wife. He sounded . . . what was the word? Hesitant? Worried? I couldn’t put my finger on it. But whatever personal shit he had going on, I couldn’t care less. All I knew was he had ruined my damn life, before and now that I had left his ass alone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain my rage if I saw him.

  I put the phone back down and resumed packing Jamaal’s diaper bag. Adria was on her way so we could go house hunting. She said she kept bringing it up because she and Keon were looking, but I knew that was an excuse. I knew it was to get me out of the house and out of my little funk. So I agreed, not really expecting any results from the search.

  The doorbell rang just as I finished changing my little man, for the third time, and I carried him and his bag to answer it. She stood on the other side in her burgundy maxi dress and blue jean blazer, her natural curly ’fro pulled up into a high ponytail. Immediately, she took Jamaal from my arms and sprinkled his plump cheeks with kisses. She then pulled me in for a hug.

  “How you holding up, sis?” Her face crinkled in genuine concern.

  I nodded, putting on my best fake smile. No use verbalizing a lie so I didn’t push and neither did she. I was grateful. Adria just knew me like that, when I needed her opinion or when I just needed her. Now was the latter.

  We packed into the car, strapping Jamaal i
nto his car seat before heading down the driveway.

  “I’ve been talking to Tyree,” Adria started cautiously as she eased the car onto the expressway. “About Melanin Mystique. Just trying to come up with a game plan.”

  I frowned. “Tyree? Why not me? Last I checked I was your business partner.” At Adria’s sigh, I quickly regretted my words. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s cool. I just meant he called me trying to see what we were doing. He’s been holding off on looking for another job because he thinks we’ll be back open soon.” She hesitated before speaking again. “I told him I thought he should probably go ahead and look for something else.”

  I nodded, my mind drifting. I tried my best to swallow my nonchalance but honestly, Jahmad had taken precedence over the store. But maybe I needed to realign my focus. I needed to keep busy. Without my business and especially without Jahmad, I felt like an empty shell of myself.

  Adria had her head cocked in my direction, obviously studying my reaction. “Well, I don’t think the investigation will take too much longer,” I said. “As soon as they realize none of us had anything to do with anything, the insurance will release the money so we don’t have a complete loss. Until then, I still have some money we can use to—”

  “Kimmy, no, you’re not putting up another eight hundred fifty thousand dollars. Hell, we weren’t even done with hiring and marketing yet. Shit, after the grand opening, we’re looking at well over a million plus. And that’s not including what you lost with the fire.” I opened my mouth to counter her argument, but she kept on. “Besides. I’m not sure we have the time and energy, Kimmy. That was crazy hectic and not at all what I expected. I think it was too much, honestly.”

  “So what are you saying, Adria?” I shifted in my seat to look at her straight. “Too much for who? You?”

  Adria didn’t respond, even after she pulled her car up to a brick two-level home with a “FOR SALE” sign embedded in the soft, freshly mowed lawn. She shut the car off and squinted through the window.

  I took the opportunity to glance around, noting the spacious lots. Nice neighborhood, gorgeous house, but entirely too big for what I needed.

  “Come on,” Adria got out of the car, nearly bursting in excitement. “Get JayJay and let’s take a look at this place.”

  Obediently, I stepped out of the car and opened the back door. Of course Jamaal had fallen asleep, little droplets of drool trickling down his chin. I leaned, carefully unbuckling his seat belt when the vehicle caught my eye through the back windshield. I frowned. Now I knew I wasn’t crazy. I pulled Jamaal from the car, all while keeping my eyes on the white Infiniti parked not so inconspicuously a few blocks down. The same truck that had been parked in my parents’ neighborhood and even at the townhome I had been looking to purchase a while ago.

  My feet remained planted on the pavement, and if it wasn’t for JayJay in my arms, I would’ve stalked right up to the vehicle and demanded the bitch come out and try and take me now. No guns, no pregnancy, no sneak attacks. Just a good ole-fashioned ass whooping. Tina was clearly asking for it.

  I then thought about marching into the house and giving Jamaal over to Adria first so I could handle this unfinished business. But no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the engine revved up and the truck bent a curve to take off on a different street. The collection of random letters and numbers on the license were just that, random and meaningless. But I did notice the tag was clearly out of state. Which one I wasn’t sure, but definitely not Georgia.

  “Hey.” Adria appeared at my side, her eyes following mine to land on the now empty street the truck had just disappeared on. “What’s going on? You okay?”

  I wasn’t. Questions cluttered my mind about Tina’s intentions. But I nodded my response to Adria, immediately wiping the concern from my face as I used my hip to close the back door.

  “Just looking at the neighborhood,” I lied. “It’s pretty, but I don’t know, Adria. The house is a little too much.”

  “I figured for you and JayJay, yeah,” she agreed, leading the way up the drive. “But Key and I decided we needed the space.”

  I opened my mouth to acknowledge her comment, closing it again when my brother suddenly appeared in the doorway of the house. “Hey, sis,” he greeted and, as customary for all my family, took the baby from me. He leaned in and pecked me on the cheek before sharing an intimate kiss with his wife.

  “Keon, I didn’t know you would be here.”

  He smirked and glanced to Adria. “Why wouldn’t I?” Noticing the confusion registered on my face, he said, “Oh, my bad. You don’t know yet.”

  “Know what?”

  They each waited a beat, exchanging knowing smirks. Then finally, Adria spoke up. “The sellers just accepted our offer on this house. We close next month.”

  A grin split my face, the first one I knew in a long-ass time. I threw my arms around her neck as she let loose the mini scream she had obviously been holding in. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you both.” And I genuinely was. Their happiness was contagious and for a moment, I had forgotten my own sorrows. I gave my brother a playful punch on the arm. “Look at my brother actually getting his grown man on.”

  “Come on, let me show you around,” Adria said, snatching my arm.

  Their new home was beyond gorgeous, from the gourmet kitchen to the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened the living room to the sunroom and in-ground pool in the fenced backyard. Hardwood floors swept throughout the house, adding the perfect touch of modern masculinity to offset the feminine charm in the chandeliers and crown molding.

  Adria pointed out each unique feature like a proud homeowner, making sure to add what they planned to do in each of the rooms we toured. When she took me upstairs, we saw the large master bedroom along with three more bedrooms, one of which Adria was sure to inform me was Keon’s “man cave.”

  “He can have his little space,” she was saying, pushing open a door to another one of the spare bedrooms. “I’m going to have plenty to keep me busy.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, peeking through the blinds to look over the front yard. “You’re about to spend up all his little coins to decorate all this space.”

  “Yes. Especially this nursery.”

  I turned, just in time to see Adria nod in affirmation and put her hand to her stomach. Now it was my turn to let out a scream.

  “I guess congratulations again,” I squealed, instinctively placing my hands on her belly, already feeling for movement. “Why didn’t you tell me? How far along are you?”

  Now it was more than obvious, I wondered how I hadn’t noticed before. I mean, yeah, it looked like she had picked up a couple pounds, but I had assumed her ass was just happy laid up with my brother and living her best life. But her glow was in her eyes, her smile, and it looked damn good on her.

  “Like seven weeks,” she revealed. “But it’s the early stages, and I know how miscarriages are common in the first trimester, and I don’t want to get Keon’s hopes up yet—”

  “Wait. You haven’t told him?”

  She shook her head. “I’m going to,” she added. “I’m just scared. I don’t know how Key is going to take it.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s going to be thrilled.”

  Adria sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides. “That’s one way to think of it,” she murmured. “He could be excited and something happens and I could be getting his hopes up. On the other hand, what if he thinks it’s too soon? We’ve only been married . . .” She paused and winked. “Seven weeks.”

  I grinned at the revelation. Typical conception-on-the-wedding-night story. These two were a fairy tale. “Adria, my brother is going to be so damn excited none of us will be able to shut him up for the next nine months.”

  She nodded, tears glistening on her eyelashes. We both giggled. “These damn hormones,” she said, crying and laughing at the same time. I had to admit, I wanted to do the same thing myself. But for different rea
sons. And unfortunately there were no hormones to which I could attribute my own slew of emotions.

  Chapter 17

  I had to blink several times to make sure I was reading the correct name on the screen. But there it was in plain sight. Jahmad was calling.

  As I sunk to the couch, my fingers shook as they hovered over my phone. Then, scared he would change his mind, I quickly swiped the screen to answer the call and put the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” I greeted and held my breath.

  “Hey, Kimera.” His voice was flat, his tone formal. Like he was making a business call. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. After all this time, at least he was calling. Eighteen days, to be exact. I had damn sure been counting.

  I let out my breath in a stuttering sigh and squeezed my eyes shut. “Hi.” I didn’t realize I was whispering and I cleared my throat. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I’m glad you called.”

  “How is Jamaal?”

  His abrupt tone stung. But I had to look at the positives. He had called about the baby. Despite whatever hatred he had for me, he had still called.

  I looked to Jamaal having a little tummy time on his play mat on the living room floor. His head was lifted and bobbing with the effort to keep it up.

  “Missing you,” I answered for myself. The silence prompted me to continue. “Jahmad, we need to talk. Please. I’m sorry for what happened but I need to explain.” Another pause and I felt my heart racing in anticipation of his response.

  “Yeah, we can talk,” he agreed. “I’ll come over there later.”

  I jumped up, unable to contain my excitement. “What time?”

  “Later,” he stated stiffly. “I’ll text you.” Then he hung up.

  I wanted to scream for joy. Dancing to Jamaal, I bent and scooped him up, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He cooed and giggled in response, reaching his hands to my face.

  “Good to see you back to your old self, baby girl.” My dad padded into the living room on a stifled yawn and immediately made his way to the kitchen for his morning coffee.