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Momma's Baby, Daddy's Maybe

Page 18

by Jamise L. Dames


  “Jared, I really don’t want to discuss this anymore, not about me and him or me and you. None of that matters now, it’s irrelevant. You want some more juice?” Kennedy rose.

  Jared stood in front of her and she put her hands on her hips. She refused to give in and give him a straight answer. She knew he wanted to hear that he was the father. But she couldn’t tell him that if she wanted to. She was sure Michael was the father.

  “Hold on a second, the juice can wait. So will you take the DNA test, for me . . . for the baby? We can have it done right in the hospital, no one has to know and you can avoid the embarrassment of going to a DNA clinic,” Jared said as he held Kennedy’s hand to prevent her from walking away.

  “I don’t know. What about Michael? He doesn’t know about us. And I—”

  “Forget about Michael, Kennedy. He’s not what’s important here, the baby is. But if it’ll make you feel any better then I can speak with someone and just you, me, and the baby will be tested. Kennedy, I know that you won’t let me down. I know that you don’t want the baby growing up not knowing who his or her real father is. You’re not that type of person, not that type of mother. You’re not grimy like that. So will you?” Jared put his palm on the side of her face.

  Kennedy put her head on Jared’s chest and cried. Too much had happened to her in a short period of time. She missed Kharri.

  “What’s wrong, Ken? Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry.” Jared held her tight.

  “I—I can’t help it. I just miss Kharri so much. I try to be strong . . . I try to get over it. I can’t, Jared. I was the best mother to her that I knew how to be. But how much of a good mother was I? I mean look at me . . . look what kind of mother I’m being to this baby now—”

  “Ssh, it’s okay. You were a great mother, and you will be again. Go ahead, Ken. Get it out. I’m here, baby.” Jared rocked her in his arms.

  * * *

  Two weeks had passed and Kennedy finally agreed to have the DNA test performed. She knew that she was doing the right thing but was still scared. She was afraid the test would reveal she was wrong about the paternity of her child. Either way she knew that she couldn’t lose with Jared or Michael. Both were very good men who would take care of their child. At least she knew that Jared would, his track record had proven that. And Michael was elated about being a father, so her worries were only minor ones.

  Not knowing bothered her the most. She had always harshly judged women who didn’t know who fathered their children and prided herself for not being like them. But she wasn’t one of those women; she had no intentions of playing the lying game. She would find out the truth and raise her child knowing the truth. Kennedy wasn’t going to have her child look upon her with contempt later on in life for lying or not caring enough to find out. After all, the child’s stability was at stake, not hers.

  * * *

  Kennedy looked at her watch and searched frantically for her house keys. Michael was due to pick her up any moment and she wanted to be ready. She had looked everywhere and couldn’t find them. As her pregnancy progressed, Kennedy was always losing things. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her shirtsleeve and sat down. She was tired from looking, her feet hurt, and she was thirsty.

  When Kennedy opened the refrigerator to get some water, she broke out in laughter. She laughed so hard that she almost wet herself, which wasn’t a hard task, since the baby was getting bigger by the day. Right next to the gallon of milk was her house keys and the cordless phone. Kennedy shook her head in disbelief at her forgetfulness and walked to the front door. She looked at her watch again and saw Michael pulling up out front. As usual he was on time.

  Kennedy unlocked the front door and walked back into her bedroom to get her purse and refreshen her lip gloss. She hated to make Michael wait but she couldn’t go out looking dull and swollen. The front door slammed. Michael was probably standing there waiting for her.

  “Back here in the bedroom,” Kennedy yelled.

  “Did you know that your front door was wide open? I told you about that,” Michael said as he walked into the bedroom and kissed Kennedy on the cheek.

  “I didn’t know that it was wide open. I just unlocked it and opened it a little when I saw you pull up. It must be really windy outside. Don’t worry, I’m crazy but not that crazy. I’ll be finished in a sec, okay? I just needed to touch up my lips.”

  “Yeah, I can tell. So, does Simone know that you’re going to buy the nursery set, or is it supposed to be a surprise?” Michael asked as he walked up behind Kennedy and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

  “Why? Did she say anything at work about doing the nursery yet? Oh, never mind, she wouldn’t tell you anyway, you’re not a woman. Ready?” Kennedy grabbed her coat and purse.

  “Not yet. Sit here on the bed for a second, I’ve got something that I need to discuss with you,” Michael said as he patted the empty spot beside him.

  “Okay. You sound serious. Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew, but I can’t be certain. Um, what I’m trying to say is that you’ve always been forward with me and I trust you, I really do—”

  “Just say it, Michael. It can’t be that bad.”

  Michael clasped his hands together and exhaled loudly. “I know that you and Jared had a thing going on before and I know that you two have spent a good amount of time alone. I just need you to reassure me that there is no possible way that he could be the father of the baby. I mean, it is mine, right?”

  * * *

  Simone answered the phone on the first ring and it wasn’t Kaisha. She had been waiting all day for Kaisha to call back after Kaisha had left a message saying she would call back at five. It was now a quarter to six. Simone hated waiting, especially for Kaisha, whom she hadn’t seen since their argument.

  Kaisha had called Simone and apologized for everything that she had said or done. Under different circumstances, Simone would’ve hung up in her face. But Kaisha had been very sincere and even cried. Simone guessed that being pregnant had caused her to be more forgiving and sensitive toward others, Kaisha included.

  Simone sat next to the phone and went over some office paperwork. She looked at the caller ID and put her paperwork down, she couldn’t concentrate. What was so important? Kaisha said that it was urgent that they talk, she didn’t say what about. Simone was going through numbers listed on the caller ID when the phone rang.

  “Simone, it’s me. Sorry it took so long but I had to get away from my baby’s daddy. He’s crazy. Anyway, can you meet me? I don’t want to talk on the phone.”

  “I hope everything’s all right, Kaisha. You sound out of breath. Wait, I thought that Nigel told me that your boyfriend left you?”

  “Yeah right, wish he would. Everything is everything, Simone. Anyway, can you meet me?”

  “Yeah, where?” Simone asked, hoping that Kaisha didn’t say in Brooklyn because she didn’t feel like taking the drive.

  “Uptown on 145 at Copeland’s, the soul food spot. Do you know where that’s at?”

  “Yes, I’ve been there before. What time? I know it’s going to take you a while on the subway—”

  “Come now. I’m already there. Simone, please hurry up, I don’t want him to find me.” Kaisha sounded scared.

  “Okay, I’m on my way. But before I come I want you to know that the only reason that I’m willing to do this is because you’re going to be my child’s sister.”

  “Yeah, I know. See you when you get here. I’ma be sitting toward the back, away from the front window.”

  Kaisha wanted her to leave right away but she decided to call a few important clients first. She needed to tell them that she was going on maternity leave and let them know who would handle them while she was away. After she made her calls she thought about Kaisha and hoped that Kaisha wouldn’t ask her to borrow money or to stay with her to get away from her crazy boyfriend. Kaisha was going to be her child’s sister but even Simone had her limits.<
br />
  After Simone retrieved her coat and was headed down the stairs a door slammed. She stopped, looked around, and listened but didn’t see anything, so she kept going. When she made it down the stairs she saw Nigel standing out of view.

  “What are you doing here and how did you get in my house?” Simone snapped.

  “What question do you want me to answer first?” Nigel smiled.

  “I’m serious, Nigel. What do you want and how did you get in?” Simone approached him and smelled the liquor seeping out of his pores.

  “Your door was unlocked and I was coming by to check on you, see how you were. The last time I was here you were in a lot of pain. Did you go to the doctor?”

  “You should be asking if I went to the police, not the doctor. And yes, I’m fine. Is that all? Because if so, you can go now,” Simone said. She had exaggerated her pain to make Nigel feel sorry for her and leave her alone.

  Nigel’s voice rose and his bass got deeper. “No, as a matter of fact, that isn’t all. Where were you going?”

  “None of your business. I’m going out and so are you,” Simone said as she reached for the front door.

  “I’m not going any damn place.”

  “Suit yourself. Lock my door when you leave,” Simone said and grabbed the doorknob.

  Nigel kicked Simone’s hand while it was on the knob. Simone pulled back and yelped out in pain as a loud crack sounded throughout the room.

  “You’re going to meet a man, huh? Not today, bitch. What did I tell you about talking to me like I’m some kind of child. Telling me to lock your door behind me when I leave. So what do you have to say now? You got any more instructions for me?” Nigel yelled as spit shot from his mouth.

  “What is wrong with you?” Simone screamed as she looked at her limp, bleeding hand. “What have I done to you?”

  “What have you done? What have you done? I’ll tell you what you did, you . . . you trifling bitch. You disrespected me, that’s what!” Nigel yelled in Simone’s face and grabbed her by her throat.

  “Nigel, I can’t breathe—”

  “If you couldn’t breathe, you wouldn’t be talking, now would you? No! I am so sick of your lies. You lied about loving me. You lied about being faithful. You lied about the baby.” Nigel slapped her.

  Simone stood there defenseless. “I didn’t lie to you, Nigel, the baby is yours. This is our baby, Nigel, mine and yours,” Simone said as she rubbed her stomach with her left hand.

  “Damn if it is.” Nigel grabbed Simone by her hair as she tried to fight back and dragged her through the house into the kitchen.

  “Nigel, please. Stop it! Stop it! Just leave, Nigel. You’ve been drinking. Just get out of my house—”

  Nigel pulled Simone from the floor by her hair and punched her and knocked her down. He looked her in the eyes as she screamed out in horror and stepped on her neck as she struggled to breathe.

  He ran up to her and kicked her in the side. Simone fell over and screamed out in pain. “Shut up,” Nigel shouted and kicked Simone in the face as hard as he could. Everything went black.

  * * *

  Derrick sat outside on the cold cement porch, the snow melting under the sun’s rays. It was exceptionally warm for February and perfect for proposing. It was the day he had been waiting for, Valentine’s Day.

  Derrick pulled the velvet box from his pocket and turned it over and over before opening it. The ring was perfect for Courtney. He only hoped that it was the right size. Derrick had saved the ring for the right time—the time when Courtney was serious enough to commit.

  Derrick rose and shook the cold from his pants and walked into the condo. He looked at his red leather chairs sitting opposite each other. He made a mental note to make his home more comfortable because his life felt more comfortable. He decided to call Kennedy later on in the week and ask her to help him because that was more of her area than his.

  Feeling family-like, Derrick grabbed his box of photo albums and searched for a picture. When he found the picture of him, Kennedy, Kharri, and Simone at Kharri’s last birthday party, he put it into a frame and placed it on top of the entertainment center. Derrick traced his finger along the top of the frame, picked it up, and kissed Kharri’s little image. “I miss you, Khar-Khar,” Derrick said, grabbed his coat from the sofa, and left.

  * * *

  Derrick placed the balloons on Kharri’s headstone and bent on one knee and said a prayer. Kharri had always been such a treasure, as if she had been one of his own. Because of Jericha, he had seen more of Kharri than he had of little Derrick and Anjelica.

  Derrick got up and kissed Kharri’s picture on the headstone and whispered, “I know you hear me and I know that you’re still around. Just look out for your uncle and check on me from time to time. Will you do that for me? I know you will. I love you always, and I’ll be back soon. Oh yeah, and don’t forget to tell God I said hi and remember to play nice with the angels. Okay, sweetie.”

  Derrick got back into his car and waited. He didn’t know what he was waiting for but something inside of him told him to. He started his engine and put his car into gear when suddenly two yellow butterflies landed on his windshield. “I know I must be crazy now. Butterflies in February?”

  Derrick smiled almost all the way home and his face hurt. He had really enjoyed his visit to the cemetery, but wished it had been a visit to Chuck E. Cheese with his niece instead. Derrick searched through his CDs, looking for Kharri’s favorite adult songs that she wasn’t supposed to listen to, when he felt his pager vibrate. Whomever would have to wait because he had purposely left his cell phone at home.

  When Derrick walked into the house he was greeted by the sound of the telephone ringing. He waited for the answering machine to pick up but remembered that he forgot to turn it on.

  “Hello.”

  “Derrick, where have you been? I’ve been calling you and paging you. I tried your cell phone—”

  “What’s the matter, Ken? I was at the cemetery visiting Kharri when the most amazing thing—”

  “Later, Derrick, tell me later. Right now you have to get over to the hospital,” Kennedy said as she started to cry.

  “What happened and which hospital?”

  “Simone lost the baby and she’s been unconscious for hours. They don’t know if she’s going to pull through. Please hurry, I don’t think I can handle this, not again, Derrick. Not again.”

  ~ 16 ~

  Kennedy watched as the movers carried the last box into the house. She wasn’t looking forward to unpacking and didn’t want Michael helping her. Some things would always be private, and she didn’t want Michael going through her belongings, even if she didn’t have anything to hide.

  Michael had insisted that Kennedy move in with him until the baby was born. He didn’t want her to be home alone when she went into labor, so he and his mother took turns staying home with her. Kennedy assured him that she could handle it but Michael wasn’t having it.

  At first Kennedy didn’t think she was going to be able to take having Mrs. Montgomery around all the time. Mrs. Montgomery was a sweetheart, and Kennedy genuinely liked her, but when two women shared a kitchen there was bound to be trouble. But Mrs. Montgomery was different; she respected Kennedy’s space.

  After the movers left, Kennedy went upstairs to change into her unpacking clothes and got to work. Even though she dreaded unpacking she was glad that her things had finally been moved. She had been at Michael’s for almost two weeks and didn’t have enough clothes to wear, so she had been forced to either go shopping for new things or walk around in Michael’s T-shirts.

  Kennedy was bending over, grabbing something out of a box, when Mrs. Montgomery walked in.

  “Chile, I know I ain’t seeing what I think I’m seeing. Why you all bent over that box?” Mrs. Montgomery said as she placed her hands on her ample hips.

  “Sorry, Ma, I forgot,” Kennedy said and squatted.

  “That’s better. Squat, don’t bend, or else yo
u’ll be in more pain than necessary. And don’t let me catch you reaching above your head either, cause you can strangle the baby like that. Just call me and I’ll do it for you,” Mrs. Montgomery instructed.

  Kennedy stopped and sat on the floor, and laughed at Mrs. Montgomery’s old wives’ tale beliefs.

  “What’s so funny, girl? You young people, I swear,” Mrs. Montgomery said and turned to walk back into the kitchen.

  “Ma, wait. Do you think that you can come with me to the hospital—”

  “Oh Lord, you ready, ain’t ya? I told Michael that you was looking a little peakish.”

  “No Ma, not yet anyway. I need to go see Simone and find out when they’re going to release her.” Kennedy got up from the floor.

  “How is she?”

  Kennedy raised her eyebrows.

  “That bad, huh? Well I’ll call a couple of my church friends—you know the women in my prayer group, and we can pray for her. Do y’all know who did it to her?”

  “She hasn’t said yet,” Kennedy lied, not wanting to spread Simone’s business. “I guess she doesn’t feel like talking. And I can’t say that I blame her, I wouldn’t be talking either. Been there, done that.” Kennedy tilted her head and poked out her lips. “I just hope she says something soon so the police can get whoever it is before I do. Because if I get to him first, then it’s all over.”

  Mrs. Montgomery nodded and adjusted her bra strap. “Yeah, I guess I can understand your anger but what y’all gotta do is pray about it and let God handle it. You gon’ have to pray for the strength to forgive that lost soul. Cause we’re all his children and he loves us all and forgives us all if we repent. You hear me?”

  “Yes Ma, I hear you. But I don’t think you understand, you’ve never lost a child—”

 

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