Momma's Baby, Daddy's Maybe

by Jamise L. Dames

  “Uh-oh,” Kennedy said, getting up from the table.

  Kharri screamed: “Cake fight!”

  * * *

  Kennedy walked Kharri outside to meet Jared. She hated to see him but refused to let Kharri go out of the apartment alone even if Jared was waiting in front. When Kharri was looking, Kennedy smiled and when she wasn’t looking, Kennedy glared. As usual Jared was being overly polite, which irked Kennedy to the umpteenth degree.

  When Kennedy was hugging Kharri good-bye the cordless phone in her hand rang. It was Michael, and Kennedy made sure she said his name very loud so Jared could hear it.

  “Take care, baby. Call Mommy as soon as you get there, if your eyes bother you again, and every day. Have a good weekend. Now come over here and give me my kiss,” Kennedy said after she told Michael to hold on. Kennedy just stood there and glared at a now pissed-off Jared as he got out of the car to strap Kharri in her seat.

  “Hey, baby, sorry. I just had to see my little princess off,” Kennedy said to Michael as she got back on the phone, waved bye to Kharri, winked at Jared, and headed toward her apartment.

  She felt victorious. She still had the power to make Jared jealous, which had been her intention. She looked at her ring and smiled. He wasn’t the only one with someone else. She had moved on too. What she and Jared shared in Virginia Beach had been nothing more than a fling, she reminded herself. She loved Michael—only Michael. So why did she tingle when she saw Jared?

  * * *

  Kennedy was glad to finally get to Michael’s house. The ride had been terrible because she felt nauseated all the way there. She kept thinking about Miranda’s tease. But she wasn’t pregnant, so something else had to be wrong. She just didn’t know what.

  As soon as she found a place to lie down, she did. Michael wasn’t home yet, so she decided to get some rest before he came in and wanted to go out. Kennedy always teased Michael about their outings because they never stayed in one place for too long, and they were always running into someone famous or important. She never really minded because she knew that she was his trophy. But hell, he was hers too. Their relationship was convenient for them both.

  Kennedy woke up on the sofa and quickly sat up. Something didn’t feel right. She looked up and she saw Michael sitting across the room, watching. It was then that she knew why she felt uncomfortable. She didn’t know why he liked to watch her sleep, but he did. The whole idea of being watched scared her at first but she was getting used to it. Michael claimed that he was watching beauty rest and that was why he stared at her while she was sleeping.

  Before Kennedy could mutter a hello, she felt her stomach turning and raced to the nearest bathroom. Michael must’ve been wearing new cologne because it was making her sick, and she could smell the woodsy aroma all the way across the room. She could taste it in the back of her mouth.

  “You all right, babe?” Michael asked as he rubbed her back when she emerged from the bathroom.

  “Yeah, it must’ve been something I ate earlier,” Kennedy lied, not wanting to hurt his feelings about his cologne.

  “Let me get you something for that. What do you need? I got some 7Up in the fridge. I hear that’s supposed to be good for queasy stomachs.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be good. I’m just going to head up to the shower. You coming?” Kennedy asked as she kissed him on the cheek, hoping that he would say yes so he could wash off the cologne.

  After Kennedy showered and got dressed she sat down on the chaise in the bedroom and stared out of the window. She thought about how good Michael was to her and about what she would say when the topic of marriage came up. She had said yes to his proposal because his mother was standing there, but later she explained that she needed time to think about it. She loved him but didn’t know if they knew each other well enough for marriage. They’d only been together eight months and Kennedy didn’t believe in rushing, though she wore the ring from time to time.

  “You ready to go, babe?” Michael asked as he came over and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Not really. Do you mind if we stay in tonight? I’m feeling a little better now, but the way my stomach’s been acting lately . . . I’d feel better if we stayed indoors. You wouldn’t want me losing it all over the restaurant, would you?”

  Michael stretched and took off his jacket. “No problem. As a matter of fact I really don’t feel like it myself. I just thought you might want to. I’m going to go downstairs and light the grill.”

  Kennedy watched from the deck as Michael prepared the food. Her stomach was turning again and she wasn’t going to last long before she had to run into the house. Even though she wasn’t feeling her best she still found the energy to yearn for Michael. She looked at him from head to toe and admired his every feature. She loved his legs and how she could run her gaze up and down every curve of his muscles. She loved the thickness of his arms. He wasn’t too muscular like those body builders on television, nor was he too lean. His arms were the type that flexed every time he picked something up or bent them at the elbow.

  Kennedy walked up behind him. She rubbed her body against him and kissed her way up to his ear and nibbled on it. Michael turned around and Kennedy reached up to kiss him. But she couldn’t. She turned around and ran into the house, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Kennedy, are you all right?” Michael asked from outside the bathroom door.

  “Yeah. Now I’m better,” Kennedy said as she came out.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “I don’t know. It comes and goes.”

  Michael scratched his chin and paused. “Kennedy, have you been to the doctor yet?”

  “No, for what? I’ll be okay. I just have a stomach virus that’s all. I’m just going to lay down for a couple of hours and I’ll be okay,” Kennedy said and headed for the bedroom.

  * * *

  Kennedy woke up and felt terrible. She’d known hangovers to feel better. She couldn’t believe that her nap had turned into a whole night’s sleep. Although she needed the rest, she felt bad because she came to spend time with Michael. She smiled. He had been so caring and attentive. The last thing she remembered was him coming in with a thermometer to check her temperature.

  Kennedy drowsily walked down the stairs and was greeted by the smell of a familiar pungent aroma. It was a scent she hadn’t smelled in a long time and to her surprise it didn’t turn her stomach. As she walked into the kitchen Kennedy heard Mrs. Montgomery’s voice.

  “Hey, Ma, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Kennedy said as she kissed Mrs. Montgomery on the cheek.

  “Hey, yourself. Do you feel any better? Michael called me and told me that you weren’t feeling well, so I decided to come on over and take a look at you myself. I also came to cook y’all some decent food—”

  “Ma, I can cook,” Michael said as he entered the kitchen from the laundry room.

  “That chef-school cooking don’t count. That’s not home cooking, boy. That’s textbook cooking. Anyway, Kennedy, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted”—Mrs. Montgomery cut her eyes at Michael—“I think you need to go and see if the rabbit died.”

  “The rabbit died? Ooh, is that gumbo I smell?” Kennedy asked as she walked over to the stove and took the lid off a pot, looked into it, and gave Michael a sideways glance.

  “Yes, child. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m saying. And get outta my pot.”

  “Kennedy, that’s her way of saying she thinks you’re pregnant. It’s some saying she picked up down South,” Michael explained with a grin.

  “Pregnant? Why does everyone keep saying that, because I’m sick? I wasn’t sick with Kharri.”

  “Child, I had five kids and every last one of my pregnancies was different, so that doesn’t mean nothing,” Mrs. Montgomery said, poking out her lips and raising her eyebrows.

  “But I’m not pregnant—”

  “Oh yeah, so you won’t mind going to take a test then, huh? Just to make your swe
et ol’, soon-to-be mother-in-law feel better. I called Dr. Milford’s office this morning and they can getcha in today.” Mrs. Montgomery smiled and gave Michael an I-told-you-so look.

  * * *

  As Kennedy and Michael sat outside Dr. Milford’s office she silenced him with a look. She had to go in for her test results. All of a sudden she was scared. She hadn’t been scared to take the test. That was easy, except for them drawing blood. She had been livid with Michael for suggesting that they take urine and blood. “Just to make sure,” he said.

  The overfriendly nurse called her name.

  She got up to follow the nurse and Michael got up and tagged along.

  She stopped and asked, “Where are you going?”

  Michael just nodded for her to keep going and smiled.

  * * *

  “Okay, Ms. Jacobs, just climb up on the table for a second and lift your shirt halfway. I don’t normally do this before a complete checkup but since you’re with Michael, well, just consider yourself a part of the family now,” Dr. Milford instructed as he patted the table and playfully threw an air jab at Michael.

  “Family?” Kennedy asked as she did as instructed.

  “I forgot to tell you that Dr. Milford is my uncle, my mother’s brother,” Michael explained as he rubbed his hand up and down Kennedy’s back.

  “All right, Ms. Jacobs, this is going to be kind of cold, the warmer wasn’t on, sorry.”

  “Wait. Wait. What’s going on here? I get the feeling that you’re going to give me an ultrasound,” Kennedy said.

  Dr. Milford laughed. “I am. Don’t you two want to see how the baby’s doing?”

  “Serious! Thanks, Unc. I gotta call Ma. Do you mind if I tell her, Kennedy?” Michael asked as he beamed like a kid on Christmas and hugged and kissed Kennedy over and over, with tears in his eyes.

  “Don’t thank me, boy. I didn’t sleep with you. You need to be thanking this pretty young lady right here. Oh yes, please call your mother because if she calls here one more time . . . do you know she called here twice today to see if she could talk me out of the results? I’m surprised that when your father was alive she didn’t get his medical license pulled from him,” Dr. Milford joked.

  Kennedy just lay with her mouth open.

  * * *

  Before Kennedy and Michael could make it into the house, Mrs. Montgomery ran up and hugged Kennedy. Happy tears ran from her eyes as though they were racing one another. Kennedy looked up to Michael for assistance to calm his mother down, but he had his own tears. Before Kennedy knew it, she was crying herself.

  “It’s an epidemic around here,” Kennedy said.

  Mrs. Montgomery smiled and brushed imaginary lint off Kennedy’s shoulder. “Oh, it’s going to be alright. I used to feel a little nervous at the beginning of all my pregnancies too.”

  “I’m not talking about the pregnancy, I’m talking about all this boo-hooing that’s going on around here.” Kennedy laughed as Michael and Mrs. Montgomery joined her.

  * * *

  Pregnant? Dr. Milford, or Uncle Millie as he liked to be called, said that she was thirteen weeks. At first Kennedy didn’t know how to feel but then she thought about Kharri and remembered how much of a joy she was to raise and to be with in general. She closed her eyes and sent up a great big thank-you for her new blessing.

  * * *

  Simone stood at the stove and stirred the gravy as she watched Nigel from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t believe he was fool enough to invite Kaisha to live with them, and that she was fool enough to let her stay. It was bad enough that she accepted Nigel’s apology and let him walk back into her life as if he never walked out. She guessed being pregnant had made her either more sympathetic or stupid.

  Nigel explained how Kaisha’s baby’s daddy had left her to go live with some other woman and how Kaisha couldn’t afford the rent on her own. He said he couldn’t pay it—they’d need it for their baby. He convinced Simone that Kaisha could learn a thing or two about being a lady, being around her. He even said that Kaisha was going to go back to school after the baby was born. Simone could understand all of that and even accept it, but what she couldn’t understand or accept was Kaisha walking around her house with a chip the size of Denver on her shoulder.

  As Simone and Nigel sat down to dinner, Kaisha stomped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and slammed it shut. Simone looked at Nigel, waiting for him to react. He didn’t. Then Kaisha went to the glass cabinet and did the same thing.

  “Kaisha, what is your problem?” Simone asked with a frown.

  Kaisha turned her rounded body around and flared her nostrils. “Ask your man what my problem is. Because—”

  “No, I’m asking you. What the hell is your problem? Don’t walk around my house like you pay rent here and start slamming cabinets and shit. Quite frankly, I’m tired of your attitude, like someone did something to you.”

  “Simone. Kaisha. That’s enough. Can’t we all just act civil around here?” Nigel asked and continued eating.

  “No, Daddy, you be civil. You’re the one who told me to come here. But you didn’t tell me that she’s pregnant too!” Kaisha yelled.

  “Yes, I’m pregnant too. And? So that’s what’s bothering you? That I’m pregnant? Well, check this out Kaisha—news flash . . . it happens. What, you don’t expect Nigel to move on? I guess that you expected to be the only child forever, right? Well sorry, babe, too late,” Simone said, patting her stomach.

  “News flash for you, Simone. I come first and you betta believe that, and the only baby that Daddy’s going to take care of is this one, his grandchild, bitch,” Kaisha said as she patted her stomach.

  Simone jumped up.

  Nigel jumped up and stood between them.

  “Nigel, you can take this raggedy bitch to a shelter for all I care. Take her wherever you want, just get her out of my house!” Simone yelled.

  Nigel picked his teeth and shook his head. “Kaisha isn’t going anywhere, Simone. She’s my daughter . . . I can’t allow you to put her out on the streets. We can all just sit down and talk this out—”

  “Oh no? Is that what you think? Well, I’ll tell you what, you can get your ass out right along with her, and if not then I guess I got to call my buddies at the NYPD,” Simone said as she picked up the telephone.

  Nigel grabbed it from Simone and slapped her with it. “Now you got a reason to call them,” he said as he strode out with Kaisha on his heels.

  ~ 12 ~

  As Kennedy sat at the stoplight waiting for it to turn green, she couldn’t get Simone out of her mind. She had a feeling that something was wrong with her sister. At first she had dismissed it because of Simone’s pregnancy, knowing that some women shut themselves in, not wanting to be seen after they started to show. But Kennedy knew that wasn’t the case with Simone. Happy to be pregnant, Simone was beautiful. She was one of those pregnant women that others loved to hate. Simone didn’t have morning sickness, her nose didn’t spread, and she was all baby, meaning that the only weight she put on was that of the baby. Simone could’ve been on the cover of one of those pregnancy magazines.

  Earlier Simone refused to go to breakfast with Kennedy and Kharri. Strange. Simone told Kennedy on the phone that she was hungry enough to eat the whole house, but when Kennedy suggested that she meet them at IHOP for an early-morning breakfast, Simone made up every excuse in the book. But what really startled Kennedy was when Simone told her that she had to check with Nigel when he got up. Kennedy knew her sister well. Something wasn’t right, even if Simone didn’t want to admit it.

  An angry New York cabdriver lay on his horn. She didn’t know how long she had sat there but assumed it wasn’t long because the cars in the next lane were just starting to pull off. After shaking her head she politely rolled her window down, stuck her head out, smiled, and flipped him the bird and pulled off at a snail’s pace. She laughed at her own version of road rage as she drove just under five miles per hour, which would piss off
the cabby because the streets were crowded and he couldn’t go around her.

  After searching fifteen minutes for a parking space she finally gave in and parked in an overpriced garage. She couldn’t understand why garages charged so much, but then again she did. They could charge whatever they wanted to. That’s why Kennedy usually took the subway to NYU after walking Kharri to school. But because she had moved far from Kharri’s school she had to commute to both. Kennedy refused to take Kharri on the overcrowded subways, which usually didn’t have an empty seat.

  After Kennedy finally graced the class with her late presence she found her seat and nodded at her professor. Dr. Randell cleared his throat and stared. Kennedy shrugged. She was at the top of her class. Besides being the only straight-A student, she was the only one who participated and showed a general interest in his boring class.

  After the stare-down, Dr. Randell finally continued. Just as he posed a question, Kennedy’s cell phone rang.

  Dr. Randell stopped the class, took off his glasses, and threw them on the podium. “Ms. Jacobs, need I remind you that this is an institution, not your home. You are in my class and on everybody’s time.”

  “Hello?” Kennedy answered her phone in the middle of Dr. Randell’s speech as she began walking out to take the call. It had to be an emergency for someone to interrupt her during her classes. Everyone knew not to call before noon unless it was a matter of life or death, and if not someone was going to get cursed out big time. As Kennedy made it to the front of the class Dr. Randell cleared his throat, and she mouthed “I’m sorry” and walked out.

  “Ms. Kennedy Reid?” an unfamiliar woman’s voice asked on the other end of the line.

  “Kennedy Jacobs.” Kennedy corrected and then asked in a very shady tone—she hated when someone called her by Jared’s last name—“What is it?”