by Carl Weber
“Telling me?” I pointed at myself for emphasis. “Honey, contrary to popular belief, I’m not my sister’s keeper. And besides, when I was keeping tabs on her in order to keep up with the health of our unborn child, you told me I was being overbearing and that I should leave her be, remember?”
“What I remember was you always being on her back, stressing her out about what she was eating and drinking. That shit you pulled at your parents’ house, yelling and screaming at her Thanksgiving weekend because she went out for a few hours—you could have made her lose the baby.”
Oh, brother. Whose side was he on anyway? We were supposed to be a team.
“You got this all wrong,” I retaliated. “I wasn’t stressing her out. I was laying down the law.” He wasn’t the only one who could get snippy. “She’s the one who thinks I’m her maid and you’re her butler. If anyone’s being stressed out, it’s us! Waiting on her ass hand and foot like we’re slaves. And as far as Thanksgiving weekend’s concerned, what I said to her was for us. Don’t act like you don’t know where she went when she took off with Daddy’s car. She was with Tony and you know it.”
He shook like a chill passed through him, but he still tried to defend her. “She said she wanted to get away from you for a few hours so she could breathe. I don’t have any reason to believe she went to see him. Why would she do that?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious! Why would—”
Thank the Lord, the doorbell rang, because I could feel a huge argument brewing, and if he had said the wrong thing, there would have been two people missing in action.
Rashad jumped up to answer the door. When he opened it, I saw two Chesterfield County police officers standing on the porch. Rashad had called the police about twenty minutes after we realized Isis was not home. When we first checked her room and saw that her bedroom hadn’t been slept in, I didn’t think much of it. My thought was that she’d hopped a bus to New York and was probably at Momma and Daddy’s by now. But when I called there and they hadn’t heard from her, I started to get a bad feeling that she might be with Tony. I ruled that out when I realized it was Christmas Day. He had a wife and kids. No way his wife would let him out of her sight long enough to make an overnight trip to Virginia on Christmas Eve.
Seeing the officers just made the whole situation a bit scarier and a whole lot more serious in my mind. Now I was deathly afraid that something really might have happened to my sister.
“Afternoon. We received a call about a missing person?” the taller of the two cops asked as they entered the house. I could tell they were impressed with our house as they tried to inconspicuously peer around.
I walked over and stood next to Rashad, who spoke up first. “Yes, my sister-in-law’s missing, and she’s five-and-a-half months pregnant.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” the shorter of the two asked, writing on a small pad.
“She was here when I went to work,” Rashad replied, turning toward me. “But my wife was with her up until around …”
“Around five yesterday afternoon,” I said, completing his sentence. “I went out to do some last-minute shopping.”
“Does she have a car?”
“No. She doesn’t have a car. And she left her cell phone upstairs in her room,” Rashad explained.
“I see. Does she do this type of thing often?” the taller officer asked. “Has she ever left for long periods of time without telling anyone?”
“Never,” Rashad answered quickly as he paced across the room. He was so wound up he couldn’t even keep still. “She may go out for a few hours, but she always comes back home. She would never do this to us without calling. Something had to have happened to her.”
The tall officer scratched his head. “Neither of you got concerned when she didn’t come home last night? You did say she was pregnant, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t get home until late.” Rashad shifted his eyes toward me. “If I had known she wasn’t at home, I wouldn’t have gone to sleep. I would have called you a long time ago.”
Both officers’ eyes were now on me. Way to go, Rashad. Blame it all on me, why don’t you?
“Did you check on her, ma’am?”
I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to tell the truth so Rashad could jump down my throat either.
“Ma’am?”
“Egypt, he’s talking to you.”
“Ah, no, I didn’t. I didn’t check on her because we had a little argument before I went out to the store,” I admitted. A wave of guilt overtook me. “By the time my husband came home, I thought she was in her room sleeping. I never even really knew she left the house.”
“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Rashad jumped in, shooting daggers at me with his eyes and pointing an accusatory finger. “What are you doing arguing with her? You know how sensitive she is. Your arguing hasn’t helped the situation one bit.” His finger was getting very close to my face. “You didn’t see her all night and didn’t think to check on her?”
“Calm down, sir,” said the shorter officer. “Your wife is probably right. There’s really nothing she could have said that made her leave the house unless your sister-in-law wanted to leave. Did you see any sign of forced entry?”
“No,” we both said in unison.
“Well, then, she’s probably off with her baby’s father. This type of thing happens more than you’d think.”
Rashad spoke up. “I doubt that very seriously. I’m the baby’s father, Officer.”
“What the h—?” The taller officer caught himself before he finished. “Didn’t you say this was your wife?”
“Yes,” Rashad answered stupidly.
“But you got your sister-in-law pregnant?”
Rashad nodded, and both officers turned to each other, trying to hide smirks. I knew what they were thinking. They thought we were running some type of freak show, and Rashad wasn’t saying a word in our defense.
I tried to explain, “Officers, my sister is our surro—”
The other officer threw his hand up to stop me. “No need for explanation. Look, that’s not our business. Virginia law says we can’t report a person missing until twenty-four hours after they disappear.” He put his notepad back in his pocket, then handed me a business card.
“If she’s not back by five, give us a call.”
“That’s in five hours. What the hell’s the difference? That woman’s carrying my baby.” Rashad was visibly angry. “I thought the first forty-eight hours were the most critical in a missing person’s case.”
“I understand what you’re saying, sir, but the law says twenty-four hours, and that’s what my supervisors are going to hold me to.”
I felt a coldness sink down to my toes. What if the next five hours made all the difference, and these cops were refusing to do anything before then?
I was scared for her safety, but at the same time, I was so livid I could strangle her. Lord help her if she was all right and had just neglected to call.
After the two officers left, Rashad and I sat quietly as the minutes on the clock ticked slowly by. I think he was emotionally spent. As for me, I was busy analyzing everything he had said. Sure, we were both worried, but Rashad had wasted no time turning his concern into anger—at me! And here’s what stuck in my mind the most: He’d told the cops she was carrying his baby. Not ours, his.
Maybe my mother was right. Maybe having Isis act as a surrogate wasn’t such a good idea. Was Rashad just concerned about the baby, or did he still have feelings for Isis? It hurt that I even had to ask myself that question, but his behavior today made me wonder if maybe our marriage was still on shaky ground, even with a baby on the way. Having this epiphany left me speechless for a long while.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I spoke up to Rashad. “You’re acting like she’s your wife. You’re so worried about what’s going on with Isis that you can’t see me over here dying a little inside ever
y day. Have you even considered what’s going on with me?” My eyes were starting to tear.
“Egypt, this is no time to be acting like a drama queen,” he said with a sigh. “We’ve got to worry about Isis and our baby.”
I started to say, So, now it’s our baby, but I stopped myself before I stirred up more trouble. I didn’t want to drive a deeper wedge between us. If I pushed too hard, I might just push him back into Isis’s arms. She was already holding the trump card with that baby inside of her.
“Ain’t that some shit.”
I followed Rashad’s gaze out the window to see what had him sounding so upset. A black SUV with New York plates was pulling up to our driveway.
“Oh, hell no! That’s Tony’s truck.”
“Yeah, and Isis is getting out of it,” he growled.
“That’s your girl,” I snapped, feeling vindicated.
“Don’t start, okay?”
“I’m not trying to start. I just want you to understand that what I do is for your benefit. I’m your wife, for better or for worse, ‘cause, baby, I got your back.”
“You was right. I was wrong.” It took a lot for him to admit that, and it meant a lot to me to hear him say it.
“Egypt, I want you to call that real estate agent in L.A., ‘cause once she has the baby, I want her ass out my house. Does that make you feel better?”
“Much better,” I said with a smirk.
Three and a half more months of this madness and then she was outta here.
Isis
38
Egypt and Rashad were going to kill me, and I probably deserved it. I hadn’t even bothered to leave a note when I left the house after Tony showed up unexpectedly. At first I wouldn’t open the door for him, because I thought he was there to whip my ass for showing up at his house Thanksgiving weekend. We hadn’t spoken since then, because I was too afraid to call him. When I stood in front of his wife, telling her I was pregnant with Tony’s child, it had seemed like a good idea, but as I drove away from the home, I realized that doing it in front of his kids and his mother-in-law was pretty stupid. It was one thing to disrespect a man’s wife. He could handle her if he had to. But I had put him in the position of having to explain to his kids, and I was sure he was pissed.
To my surprise, though, he didn’t sound angry at all as he stood outside the door, begging to come in. I was worried it was just an act so he could get inside and get his hands around my throat, but the more he confessed his love and pleaded with me to open the door, the more I remembered that Tony could never stay mad at me for very long.
When he walked through the door looking like a great big teddy bear, my heart just melted. He must have felt the same way when he saw my big belly, because he gave me a kiss that took my breath away. I was so happy to see him that I didn’t think twice about getting in his truck and leaving five minutes after he walked through the door. I just grabbed my coat and my bag, and I was gone. I didn’t even go upstairs to get my cell phone. I’d had an argument with my sister earlier, so calling her was the last thing on my mind anyway.
Tony showed me the best time I’d had since moving to Richmond. He took me shopping at South Park Mall in Colonial Heights, and we visited the bookstore owned by my favorite author, Carl Weber. I had so many shopping bags in Tony’s trunk, I didn’t know how I was going to sneak them past Egypt. Some of the stuff was for the baby, but most of it was for me. After shopping and then dinner at Red Lobster, we ended up at the Richmond Coliseum for the Frankie Beverly and Maze concert. Tony must have really planned this out, because our seats were the absolute bomb. I had no idea it was going to be an overnight stay but didn’t exactly protest when he pulled into the Hilton Garden Inn on Broad Street. It was so nice to go out and not be the third wheel.
“Tony, I’m really happy.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me as we walked from the parking area to the hotel lobby.
“So am I.”
“No, I’m really happy—not to mention touched. You never spent a Christmas Eve with me before.” I held his arm a little tighter.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that. But things are going to be different now. A lot different. I promise.” I hadn’t heard that kind of sentiment from him since the day I took those pills and he confessed his undying love to me. But that was when he thought I was halfway to the grave, and he wouldn’t have to follow through on a promise he couldn’t keep. I had to wonder: Obviously I wasn’t dying, so what was inspiring him to make these promises now?
“Different how?”
He stopped walking and turned to face me with a somber expression. “Monica and I are getting a divorce.”
I released my arm from his and said with a sigh, “You don’t have to lie to me. I made my peace with you being married a long time ago.”
“I’m not lying. If you want, we can go back to the truck and you can see the papers she served me with.”
I searched his face for some telltale change in his expression—a flinching of his facial muscles or a lack of eye contact that would prove to me that he was lying—but there was nothing like that. He looked me dead in the eye, and his voice was steady and even. Hmmm, maybe he wasn’t lying.
“So, where does that leave us?”
“Right now I’m staying with my parents, but I want you and the baby to come stay with me after I get settled. I want you to come back home to Queens. I love you, Isis. When my divorce is final, I want you to be my wife.”
I was starting to believe him, until he threw in the part about marrying me. Another telltale sign of a liar is someone who throws in too much detail or makes his story sound too good to be true, and Tony was definitely doing that now. Well, I would just have to call his bluff.
“You know, on second thought, I think I would like to see those papers you supposedly have in your car.”
I expected him to hesitate, to come up with some bullshit about why he couldn’t show them to me now or even to admit that it was a lie. Instead, he took my hand and said, “Okay, let’s go back and get them.”
This had me totally confused. Was he just stalling, using this walk to the car as time to think up a good lie? Maybe we’d get there and he’d pretend he misplaced them or something. Or was it possible that he really did have papers, and he really was getting a divorce?
When he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a thick envelope, which he handed to me, I felt my knees becoming weak. It was looking more and more like my dream was actually coming true, and Tony would soon be single. As I read the legal documents that I pulled out of the envelope, I had to lean against the truck to keep from collapsing.
“Oh my God, Tony! It’s really true! You’re getting a divorce.” Maybe it was inappropriate, but I couldn’t help but laugh with excitement. I had been waiting for a very long time for his wife to leave us alone so we could be together the way we were meant to be. Rationally, I knew this meant he would be living apart from his kids, and that would tear him up, but we could work that out. In the meantime, I would make sure he was so well taken care of that he wouldn’t have time to be sad.
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed all over his face. “I really thought you were playing,” I said, still breathless with delight.
“Does this look like I’m playing?” He bent down on one knee right in the middle of the parking lot and pulled out a small box from his jacket.
“Isis, will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes, Tony, I’ll marry you.” I think you could put that down as the happiest moment of my life. I melted into his embrace and imagined myself there, safe and warm, for the rest of my life.
I don’t even know how we ended up in our room, but somehow we did, making up for lost time. I could honestly classify the sex as the best I’d ever had. That man put something on me, and might I dare say, I put it right back on him. Whoever said pregnant sex was the best ain’t never lied.
I went to sleep feeling like I was in a fantasy, a dre
am come true, but when I woke up, reality set in, in the form of a kick to the belly. The clock on the nightstand told me it was eight, right around the time Rashad would be in the kitchen making breakfast.
I rubbed my hand over my swollen abdomen to calm the baby, but he wasn’t having it. I felt another kick.
Hungry, huh? You miss your daddy’s cooking, don’t you? So do I.
With thoughts of Rashad came a massive wave of guilt. He was probably worried sick, and Egypt, she was probably ready to kill me. Yeah, I always thought that what I wanted was a man of my own, but now that Tony was beside me and I was wearing the diamond he’d given me last night, I wasn’t so sure I was happy about it. Suddenly, I was living proof of that old maxim, “Be careful what you wish for.” What the hell had I gotten myself into?
Okay, boo-boo, Momma’s gonna get you something to eat. Just give her a minute.
I tried to shift my body so I could slip out of bed, but when I moved, Tony moved with me, and his arm came to rest on my stomach.
The baby kicked again. I couldn’t help but think he was trying to tell me something. Probably something like, Get that man’s hand off me. Isn’t it bad enough that I’m swimming in his sperm?
He kicked again, and you best believe I removed Tony’s hand.
I’m sorry. You just don’t know how hard it is, how lonely it can be. You want your mommy to be happy, don’t you?
I glanced at my engagement ring sadly. It was no longer a symbol of our love; it was a reminder of the lie that had prompted Tony to ask me to marry him. I had to wonder, Would he have asked if he knew it wasn’t his baby I was carrying? But then a thought occurred to me. What if, by some chance, Tony was the baby’s father? I mean, there was that one time, and condoms aren’t 100 percent foolproof.
Another kick told me to stop dreaming and face the facts. That baby just wanted to go home to his dad. And I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t want to go also.
