by Tina Martin
Everson smirked. “Hey, Dad.”
“Everson says the family dinner is canceled,” Elowyn said, taking a seat next to Theodore.
“Canceled?” his father asked, a spoonful of grits halfway to his mouth.
Everson sat opposite of them. “Unfortunately, yes. I had to cancel. Actually, June canceled.”
“What’s going on, Everson?” Elowyn asked.
“Um…” Everson closed his eyes. After blowing a breath, he said, “I’ll get to that in a moment. He interlocked his fingers, trying to figure out a way to approach this without sounding accusatory. He had enough people angry at him. He didn’t need any more pissed off family members. So, taking the printed email from his pocket, he unraveled it and handed it to his father.
“What’s this?” Theodore asked, taking it, placing it on the table so Elowyn could see it as well.
“Read it,” Everson told him.
So they did. Looking on together, they both silently read the email:
To: The Simmons,
Let me apologize that we couldn’t have this conversation in person, but what we have to say needs to be said. We think it would be in the best interest for both of our children if Eliana gave the baby up for adoption. Think about it. She’s not capable of being a mother or raising a productive child, and Everson is in no way prepared to be a father. They’re too young. They have their entire lives—bright futures ahead of them and a baby would destroy those plans. There’s no need for Eliana to reach out to Everson to include him in any discussion involving the baby. Shall you decide not to give the baby up for adoption, we will provide all the monetary assistance you need as long as you keep Everson out of this. The choice is ultimately yours to make. We’ve made ours.
T & E Blackstone
___________
Once he was done reading, Theodore looked up at Everson with a million wrinkles in his forehead and asked, “What on earth is this?”
“You’ve never seen this before?” Everson asked. “You didn’t type this email?”
“No. I have no idea what this is or what it’s about.”
Everson looked at his mother who had since picked up the letter, re-reading it. “What about you, Ma? Do you know anything about this?”
“No, I don’t, but according to this letter, you have a child. Is this true? Wha—what is this, Everson?”
Relief filtered through his body. Now that he knew they had nothing to do with this bogus email, he explained, “Last weekend, I found out I had a son by the woman mentioned in that email. Eliana. I know you don’t remember her, but she was my girlfriend in high school. When she and her family moved away, she was pregnant, and I wasn’t aware of it. Recently, I had to work with Eliana on business after not talking to or seeing her for fourteen years. Shortly after we reconnected, she informed me that she had a son and I was the father. She said she didn’t tell me because the two of you got together and sent this email to her parents when you found out about her pregnancy.”
“The devil is a lie!” Elowyn said, placing a hand on her chest. “I wouldn’t dare send an email like this, Everson. I don’t even know how to type for goodness sakes.”
“It didn’t come from me either,” Theodore added. “Sounds like somebody pulled a fast one on you, son.”
“And why on earth would I suggest that a child, who is possibly my grandbaby, be given up for adoption? I’ll raise the child myself before I suggest such a foolish thing.”
“Calm down, dear,” Theodore said when he saw Elowyn’s face turning a shade. Theodore took the letter from Elowyn’s grasp, taking a closer look at it again. The date. The from line, to and subject lines. “This Eliana woman gave you this garbage?”
“Yes.”
“Then I want to know where she got it from.”
“She said her parents gave it to her.”
“Well, that’s who you need to be questioning. Her parents. Not us. Like your mother, I would never suggest anything like this. This—this is ridiculous.”
“I know and I apologize for having to bring this to you. I’m just covering all of my bases before approaching Eliana again.”
“The part about you having a child—is that true?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“You think?” his father asked.
Everson took the photo of Jaxson from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table in front of his father.
After analyzing the picture, Theodore said, “He does kinda look like you.”
“He does,” Everson said. “I haven’t done a DNA test, but I’m almost certain he’s mine.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be certain of anything until the test comes back,” Theodore said.
“I agree,” Elowyn said. “Although, I do see the resemblance. I would love to have another grandchild.”
Everson smiled.
“You must’ve told June all of this, huh?” Theodore asked.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Now I know why dinner is canceled?” Theodore said. “I have to imagine she’s not taking this well.”
“No, she’s not, and there are other factors that I won’t mention, but the family dinner definitely isn’t going to happen. I’ve already sent the rest of the family a group text notification.”
“What are you going to do about the boy?” Theodore asked.
“What’s his name?” Elowyn inquired.
“His name is Jaxson. He’s fourteen, and I plan on going to Atlanta in a few days to see about a DNA test. Although I don’t think I need one, I want to make it official.”
“Are you and Jaxson’s mother on good terms?” Elowyn asked further.
He grimaced. “Not exactly, but I’ll do what I need to do to get some sort of custody rights with my son.”
Theodore nodded.
Elowyn shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. If I’m shocked, I know June must be.”
“Yeah. She is.”
“Do your brothers know?”
“Yeah. They know.” Everson stood up. He took the photo and letter, stuffed them back inside of his pocket and said, “I have some phone calls to make. I’ll see you,” he said, patting his father on the shoulder and leaving a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Love you, Ma.”
“Love you, too. Keep us in the loop, son,” Elowyn said.
“I will.”
As soon as he sat in the passenger seat of his car, he started the engine, dialed Eliana’s number and waited. As he expected, she didn’t answer. When the voicemail picked up, he said:
We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Whichever way, I’m coming there to see my son. You can’t keep him from me, Eliana.
Then he hung up, shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway.
Chapter 18
June spent all day dodging phone calls. One after the other. From Kalina, then Candice. A call came from Calista and even Bryson. And she couldn’t find the strength to answer the call from Elowyn. She was too messed up to talk to anyone. She could only curl up in the fetal position on the living room sofa since it was the only room where she could escape from Everson’s scent. The only room in the house that didn’t contain any pictures of them – like the black and white photos lining the stairway wall and the wedding picture on the wall in the family room.
The hours slowly trickled by. At certain points of the day, she told herself that she wouldn’t be defeated by Everson’s infidelity – that this wasn’t her fault. Then there were times she questioned her role in this, same as she did yesterday. Then again, even if she wasn’t up to par as a wife, which she doubted, did that give him permission to step out on her?
Drying her eyes and softly patting her sore nose with a Kleenex, she got up from the couch and stumbled to the kitchen for water, feeling faint. Legs feeling partially numb again. She hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday, and she didn’t feel like eating anything now. She just wanted to grieve the passing of her marriage because there was no way she’d take Everson bac
k. No, not after this.
When the doorbell sounded, she made no effort to move – just stood in the kitchen like she didn’t hear the sound orchestrating throughout the house. She took another sip of water while placing her left hand on her stomach.
The doorbell sounded again, this time, back-to-back.
It only served to make her angry – not to rush to the door to see who was there. So she didn’t rush. She walked slowly, peeped out the window first to see Kalina’s car out front.
She rolled her eyes. Some friend she was.
The doorbell sounded for the fourth time and June nearly lost her balance. She snatched the door open and asked, “What could you possibly want, Kalina?”
Kalina stared at June. June’s hair was frizzy, flying all over the place. Her nose was red. Eyes a pinkish color and lids noticeably puffy. Her face looked pale. Lips dry. She had on a robe at five in the afternoon. This wasn’t the June she knew. June never let herself go. She stayed on point whether she was at home or out and about. She couldn’t recall ever seeing her this way.
Taken aback by June’s appearance, Kalina disguised the shock on her face by saying, “I was worried about you. I called three times today. You didn’t answer.”
“That should’ve given you a hint,” June said, her voice raspy from spending the last two days crying. “Usually when you call somebody repeatedly and they don’t answer the phone, it means they don’t want to talk to you. Go post that on your blog.” She started to push the door closed, but Kalina prevented her from closing it all the way.
“June, I’m sorry,” Kalina said throaty. “I am, but this isn’t my fault. You can’t blame me for something Everson did to you?”
“You were supposed to be my friend. My sister-in-law and friend, Kalina. I came to you and you—you made me think nothing was wrong,” she said, her words fading as more tears welled up in her eyes.
Kalina pushed the door open and stepped inside, taking June into her embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said, fighting back her own tears while she held on to June. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
June backed away from her and wiped tears from her eyes.
“I—I really don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say anything,” June told her. “There’s nothing to say and I honestly don’t feel like talking. I really don’t. When I do, maybe I’ll call you, but I can’t right now. I just can’t.”
“Okay. I accept that,” Kalina said. “Just know that, when you are ready, I’ll be here.”
June nodded.
Kalina hugged her again. “I love you.”
“I know,” June said.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
Kalina smiled sadly and turned to exit out of the front door.
June stood there for a moment, watching as she backed out of the driveway, then when she drove off, she eased the front door closed.
Food.
She had to eat something. Had to get out of the house. Some air and sunshine would do her a world of good.
She dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray shirt, slipped on some canvas shoes and stood at the bathroom mirror.
“Gosh, June. You look a mess,” she said, realizing that today, she’d be wearing making to hide flaws, not to enhance features. And she was okay with that. She didn’t want anyone to know how red her nose was, or that she’d been crying so much, it looked like she had sandbags underneath her eyes. And maybe after she finished applying the makeup, she’d still opt to hide her eyes with the biggest pair of black sunglasses she could find. Like the kind you would wear to a funeral. After all, something had died – her belief in love. In marriage. In unity. Day two and she was still in mourning.
Sitting in her car, the feeling a tad bit foreign since she hadn’t done it in two days (not typical for her) she backed out, heading straight to the grocery store. She’d never been big on fast food (she called it fat food) and preferred a home-cooked meal, even if it wasn’t anything but hand ripped lettuce with some tomatoes thrown inside of it. Friday was her day to go shopping for groceries, especially since the family dinner was supposed to be at her house, but after Everson’s bombshell, there was no need to shop for food since there would be no family coming over.
Pulling up to the store, she parked. Shut off the car. Didn’t move.
“Okay, June. Make this quick. Just run in there and grab some stuff. You can do it.”
The pep talk wasn’t working. She still didn’t move.
The keys remained in the ignition.
Her fingers trembled.
What the heck?
Exasperated, she pressed her forehead on the steering wheel and tried to stop the constant recycling of what she thought might happen if she got out of the car and ran into someone she knew inside of the store. She could hear the women gossiping now:
“You know, I saw June Blackstone the other day and she looked a hot mess, girl. I wonder if she and that Blackstone fella are still together.”
“Girl, probably not. He was a player before he met her and you know how the saying goes – once a player, always a player.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Sho nuff is. Folks say you can’t turn a hoe into a housewife. They need an expression like that for men. You can’t turn a dog into a househusband. Hello!”
“You ain’t never lied, girl. But, anyway, getting back to June, did you see her with those big ol’ sunglasses on?”
“Did I? How could I miss them?”
“Mmm hmm…see what I’m saying. Now, I’m not one to get in nobody’s business, but that girl might be being abused.”
June sighed as the what if questions came to her mind. What if she did run into someone she knew? Someone who knew it was out of character for her to wear funeral-grade sunglasses inside of a grocery store? What would they think? That she was trying to hide from somebody incog-negro style. Disguising a black eye perhaps? Or going through some kind of midlife crisis? Or maybe that she’d finally flipped out, defeated by life? Concealing herself from the next upset?
What if the person she ran into asked her how she was doing? She wouldn’t know how to answer, and that’s the typical icebreaker question when you run into folk—how are you doing? – like they really care. Most don’t. Most are fishing for something to run home tell their husbands. But the ones who were genuine, what would she say in response? She could see herself stuttering to come up with an answer to that simple question that most people replied to with just a typical ‘fine’. She could lie and say that she was fine. It could possibly work. Or the I-don’t-give-a-crap switch might flip in her head, causing her to go on a rant about how she was on the verge of divorce from a man who couldn’t keep his pogo stick to himself.
And then there was the big what if. What if someone asked her how Everson was doing and the look of utter disgust automatically came to her face? She would definitely try to change the subject, but people read into everything nowadays. She’d still be the topic of someone’s conversation.
Crap!
June started the car. One sure fire way to avoid all of this was to pull up at a drive-thru and order herself some fat food. After all she’d been through, she deserved the luxury and downright satisfying feeling of gaining two pounds in one day and not giving two craps about it. Besides, this way, she wouldn’t have to worry about running into anyone. Drive-thru workers didn’t scrutinize you, try to strike up conversations and ask you if your man was cheating. They took your money, passed you a brown bag full of food and the transaction was over. Finished and done.
She pulled up at a burger joint and ordered the bacon double cheeseburger meal.
“Would you like to supersize your order ma’am?”
A smile grew on her face as she looked at the speaker from which the voice had come. “You bet your sweet life I would,” she replied.
“And what kind of drink would you like with that?”
&n
bsp; “Uh…you don’t serve alcohol here, do you?”
A grin came through the intercom speaker. “No ma’am.”
“Darn it. Okay, just give me a Coke. I got some rum at home.”
Laughing, the worker said, “Okay, so I have a bacon double cheeseburger meal, with a Coke, supersized. Is everything correct on the screen?”
June glanced at it and said, “Yep.”
“Okay, ma’am. Your total is $8.69.”
June drove up to the first window. When it opened, she handed the guy a ten dollar bill.
“You said you got some rum at home, huh?” he joked, still tickled.
June laughed. “Sure do.”
“I feel you. I wish I had some,” he said, handing her change.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your day and your rum.”
“I will,” she said, tickled.
She drove up to the second window where they already had her food prepared. The worker handed her the supersized soda first, then the bag. And that was a wrap.
She’d eaten most of the fries on the drive home and couldn’t remember the last time she indulged in so many delicious carbohydrates. Only a few fries remained in the bag when she sat at the table and took a massive bite of the burger.
“O-M-G, this is freakin’ delicious,” she mumbled, almost immediately taking a sip of soda after swallowing that first bite. “Wait…the rum!”
She jumped up and walked swiftly to the liquor cabinet, taking out a bottle of rum. Popping the top off of her cup, she poured in four shots worth and stirred it with the straw, taking a long sip afterward. She continued eating until the burger was gone and she was stuffed, all the food washed down with Coke and rum – the best meal she’d had in quite some time.
Now that she had some energy, thanks to food and liquid courage, she decided to do some housecleaning. First things first, she had to change the bed covers. Everson’s scent was on the covers that were currently on the bed, so she pulled everything off – down to the pillow cases and stuffed it in the washing machine. Then she replaced it with a different set – one that smelled like fabric softener.
