Frost on My Window

by Angela Weaver

  “Besides ‘I love you and I’ll wait’?” I hit the start button for a new game.

  “Oh, hell. What did you say?”

  “I told him I needed space.”

  “How much space?”

  “One month and at least two time zones.”

  I looked up as Rena’s hand reached down and hit the off button on the laptop.

  “Please don’t tell me this has something to do with Lance, because if it does I will beat your stupid behind.”

  “No, this time it’s all about me.” I stood up and stretched. “I’m terrified, intimidated, and confused. I love Sean but there’s this self doubt problem I’m having.”

  “Why?” Rena asked.

  “Sean’s surrounded by some of the most beautiful women in the world.”

  “So?”

  “Every time I look in a magazine and see some actress Sean’s dated, I think of everything I’m not.”

  “Think about this: The man is interested in you for everything you are, and I don’t just mean the physical thing. He’s seen you when you wake up, cuz, and I know what a scary sight that is.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Just kidding. For real, when you walked into the apartment tonight if looks could speak the one Sean gave you said, ‘What the hell have I been doing with my life without you?’ And this is not the first time I’ve caught him looking at you with his heart in his eyes.”

  “Lord, Rena, I hope you’re right.”

  “Have you ever known me to be wrong?”

  “Yes.” I shook my head. “I just need time to think, that’s all.”

  “While you’re doing your thinking just remember what Pop always told us. If you’re going to have to pay for it, get what you want and what you need. Otherwise you’re going to be miserable as hell paying that monthly note.”

  “He was talking about buying a car,” I reminded her.

  “Anyway,” she said, fluffing the pillow, “it’s almost four in the morning and you know Mom and Pop aren’t going to let us sleep late.”

  “I love you, Rena.” My voice came out small and tiny.

  “I love you, too. Now turn out that lamp so I can get some sleep.”

  * * *

  It had been four weeks since the last time I saw Sean, and every day I missed him. I missed the phone calls, emails, and text messages. He hadn’t even called to check on Simba. I’d asked for a month and when I looked at the calendar yesterday the month had officially ended. Since the night I told him I needed time, each morning I got out of bed with Billie Holiday’s sweet, solemn voice singing ‘Good Morning Heartache’ in my head. I felt the blues deep in my stomach, like a weight that wouldn’t leave. The worst was that I had brought it on myself. But today is going to be different, I vowed.

  “I want Tina Turner’s legs,” I shouted over the music blaring in the background. The stair climber underneath my feet was moving at full speed and sweat dripped in my eyes.

  “Girl, the way you’re stomping on that machine, you’ll have a better set of legs,” Carol declared.

  I tried to smile and just gritted my teeth as the speed on the Stairmaster inched up another notch. This was my penance. I couldn’t stop thinking about Sean. I missed my sensitive, sweet, fun-loving, and sexy best friend. The damn man haunted me. It had gotten to the point that I couldn’t even get in the shower without thinking about him and wanting to cry. I’d lost my appetite and I couldn’t even enjoy my rum raisin ice cream.

  As Tina sang out ‘What’s Love Got to Do with It?’ over the gym speakers, I could only answer, “Everything.” I was miserable without Sean, and living with my cousin wasn’t helping. Rena was on cloud nine with Trey just about living at our apartment. I was the one who’d said I needed time and Sean was the one who’d said he’d wait. After looking at the Star that I’d found sitting in the middle of my desk yesterday morning, I’d concluded that he didn’t look too miserable. Just the memory of the redhead I’d seen in the picture made my blood boil.

  “Leah!” Carol shouted.

  “What?” I panted.

  “Don’t you think you might want to slow down a little?”

  Think. That’s about all I’d been able to do. There had been no phone calls, letters, or surprise gifts. Nothing.

  “I’m fine,” I answered.

  “Yeah, and I’m Whitney Houston,” Carol answered sarcastically.

  I turned to look at her.

  “Girl, call the man,” she urged.

  “Who?” I managed to ask through gritted teeth as pain started running up and down my legs.

  “Sean. Who else, fool?”

  “No,” I answered shortly. “I mean really, what’s the point? Sean doesn’t seem to be missing me. The phone hasn’t rung once.”

  “What’s wrong with your stubborn behind? You’ve been irritable and moody ever since you got back from Arizona. Why don’t you just call the man? Talk to him instead of spending time either playing Tetris or working out at the gym,” she advised.

  The pain left my legs and went to my head. As I opened my mouth, the world began to spin and my legs stopped moving as I swayed with dizziness. Blinking rapidly, I found myself holding on to the side rails of the machine.

  “Are you okay?” Carol asked. I opened my eyes to see Carol standing next to the machine with a gym trainer next to her.

  I waved my hand. “Don’t y’all worry about me. I’m gonna be all right.” My voice was slurred, and before I could take another breath the gym dropped away and all I saw was black.

  * * *

  “Congratulations, Ms. Russell. You’re not sick,” the doctor announced.

  “Then what’s wrong with me?” I asked anxiously.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  I stared at the petite curly haired woman as if she’d grown two heads.

  Pregnant. Blinking, I inhaled deeply, trying to push down the scream that threatened to erupt from my throat. Terror brought on by the thought of raising a child suffocated me. When I opened my eyes nothing had changed. The doctor was still standing there with a big goofy smile on her face as if this was an EPT home pregnancy kit commercial and I was going to start jumping up and down with joy.

  “Pregnant?” Somehow I made the word sound like a fatal disease. The woman finally picked up a clue.

  “Your blood sugar level is pretty low and you need more iron in your diet. I’m going to write you a prescription for some prenatal vitamins.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as the doctor continued.

  “Now you can still work out, but as you get closer to your due date only moderate and low intensity exercise is allowed. You should also decrease the stress in your life and get more rest,” she advised.

  “Pregnant,” I repeated. How? Then my mind slid back to my last night with Sean in Arizona.

  “Don’t worry, dear, everything’s going to be all right.”

  “No, it won’t,” I contradicted. I had just become one of the fastest growing segments of the U.S. population: black single mother. Lance. I lay back and buried my face in my hands. I’d said so many nasty things. My own hypocrisy made me want to weep.

  “Here’s a great pamphlet that you can start reading.”

  I looked up at the brochure in her hand. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” I almost lost it. I looked around the small room and got up to gather my things.

  “Here’s a list of obstetricians that I highly recommend. You can’t be more than five or six weeks, but I suggest you go ahead and book an appointment.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Cassidy.” I grabbed the paper and the book. I wanted to get as far away from that smiling woman as possible.

  “Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world.” She patted my shoulder.

  At that moment I wanted my mother more than anything else in the world. I wanted her arms around me so I could weep. I wanted the smell of home and the sound of my father opening the freezer to pull out my favorite ice cream to make me feel bet
ter. I just wanted everything to be okay.

  I walked out into the waiting room and saw Carol typing away on her laptop with a pen in her mouth and a cup of coffee by her side. She looked up and took one look and me and the pen dropped out of her mouth. She hurriedly put the laptop to the side and stood up.

  “Talk to me, Leah,” Carol demanded.

  I couldn’t seem to get the words out. I thought about the little person that was living inside me. I pictured Sean’s smile. I wanted my baby to have his smile and that dimple in his left cheek and all of a sudden the doctor’s words became more real.

  “I’m pregnant, Cece.”

  “Say what?” she yelled.

  “I’m gonna have a baby.” My voice was a mere whisper.

  “Sit down, girlfriend, before you fall out.”

  “What am I going to do?” My response was more of a sob than a sentence.

  “Breathe, Leah. Just breathe.” She held onto my hand.

  She whipped out her cell phone and started dialing. Her finger almost touched the talk key before I stopped her.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Rena.”

  “No!”

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “I don’t want anyone to know yet, Cece.”

  “It’s not like I’m calling the National Enquirer. They already got your business in the street. I’m calling your cousin Rena.”

  “I need some time to deal with this. Please don’t tell anybody.” Mom and Pop. How the hell am I going to tell my parents that I’m pregnant? Not to mention work. The liberal management at the advertising agency wouldn’t blink an eye at me having a child out of wedlock, but it still bothered me.

  Carol broke into my runaway thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking. Your family ain’t gonna so much as blink when you tell them the news. Shoot, you been telling me your Pop’s been after you for grandkids.”

  I smiled at her attempt to cheer me up. “Pop wanted me to be married when I made him a grandfather.”

  “And you think you won’t be? Leah, you and I both know that actions speak louder than words. And Sean’s Andrews’s past actions practically shout that the man has been in love with you for months. No man who sent you half the flowers in Holland, rang your phone almost every night before you went to bed and put up with your crazy behind is going to do anything but put a ring on your finger.”

  “Am I really crazy, Cece?” my voice wobbled a bit.

  “No, honey you’re not.” Her voice softened. “You just like to give. You give and give and give and you never ask for anything in return. That’s one of the things I love about you, girl, but I think it’s time you start getting.”

  “I’m not that selfless.”

  “Don’t give me that. Every time someone tries to do something nice for you, you just freeze up because you don’t know what to do. You’re just so used to taking care of everybody else you don’t leave time for anyone to take care of you.”

  “Sean did, and now he doesn’t even call me anymore.” I sniffed, feeling tears fill the corners of my eyes.

  “And look how long it took you to wake up and smell the roses. That man has been trying to get into your mix for as long as you’ve known him.”

  “No…” I stopped at her raised hand and serious look.

  “Listen to me. I’m your friend and I’ve never told you wrong. Sean is a man. Men need to be needed. Look at that crazy husband of mine. You were with me when he finally got up the nerve to propose. He didn’t think he had anything to offer me, thought I didn’t need him. It took me breaking down with a panic attack after losing my first big case for him to see that I needed him more than anything in the world.”

  I sniffed and wiped at my eyes, feeling a little better. “I love you, Cece.”

  “I know.” She hugged me tight. “Now get your butt together and let’s get out this office because I’m hungry and the diner on the corner is calling my name.”

  I stowed the pregnancy book in my duffle bag and followed Carol out the door.

  * * *

  “Hi.” I managed a weak smile as Lance opened the door with little Michael cradled in his arms. The answering smile I saw on his face wrapped me in memories of kindergarten and chocolate milk.

  “Come on in,” he welcomed.

  I held out the large shopping bag like a peace offering. “This is for you.”

  “Can you take him?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I held out my hands and Lance handed the baby over to me. I took a seat on the couch and began to play peek-a-boo with little Michael.

  “You know you’re famous, right?” Lance said over the noise of shuffling paper.

  I ignored him and concentrated on the beautiful sight of Michael’s toothless grin.

  Lance continued, “The radio personalities can’t seem to stop talking about you and that rock star.”

  “Can we not talk about this, please?” I made an effort not to look at Lance. A shudder wracked my body at the thought of being the subject of a talk show host’s sick fantasies.

  “These are cute. Where’d you pick up the clothes?” he asked, referring to the pants and shirts I’d picked up for Michael.

  “Old Navy.”

  “Old Navy?” he repeated.

  “It’s just like Gap, but the clothes are a little more casual.”

  “Thank you,” he said after laying the clothing back in the box.

  “Welcome.”

  “So how long have you been holding out?” I noticed Lance’s voice had turned cooler by at least ten degrees.

  “Holding out?” I repeated.

  “About the white boy.”

  “He’s not a boy, Lance.”

  “Okay, what’s with the white man?” His question was anything but casual as he leaned over to wipe a little bit of dribble from little Michael’s mouth.

  I looked up from Michael and met Lance’s guarded face. “We’ve been friends for over a year.”

  “So that’s what they call it on the West Coast, huh?”

  Refusing to go on the defensive, I barely kept the anger out of my voice. His whole attitude was beginning to piss me off.

  “Look, if you have something to say, say it,” I challenged.

  He drew back and crossed his legs. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Don’t give me that, Lee. We grew up together. You expecting me to be cool with you and whitey?”

  “I’ve learned to stop expecting anything from you, Lance. What I hoped was that you would be more open-minded.”

  “About as open-minded as you were when you found out about my son, right?” he replied sarcastically.

  “Look. Don’t make me regret pulling your scrawny behind out of the pool back when we were kids,” I warned, reminding him of the time a dare almost got him drowned. “I’ll admit I was disappointed in you, but as you can see from my being here, I support you one hundred percent.”

  He sighed and sat back, “You’re right. I owe you more than this.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “It’s just of all the sistas I know, you were the last person I thought would cross that line.”

  “And what line have I crossed, Lance?” I asked, frustrated.

  “Don’t give me that.”

  “Is it that imaginary color line you’re thinking about?” I shifted to look him full in the face. “Is that what’s got you so uptight? So Sean’s not a black man. Big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, Lee. It burns me up to hear some guy talk like this rock star you’re dating has won some competition and scored one for the white guys.” Lance’s voice was filled with indignation.

  “What do you think this does to me?” I asked, shaking my head. “Do you think I like being in the news? Do you think I get a kick out of being the topic of people’s conversations?”

  “Then cut him loose. Let the man go before he pulls you down.”

  I collapsed back into the couch and let out a loud sigh. “It�
��s not that easy. For starters, I’m in love with him.” I opened my eyes and looked into Lance’s fawn-like eyes. As they searched mine I leaned in closer to tickle the baby with my nose.

  “What am I missing here?” Lance asked.

  “I don’t know, you tell me.” I turned the question around, surprised by his perceptiveness.

  “Something else is up, Lee. I’m not as blind as I was back in college. Something’s got under your skin, I can feel it.”

  “It’s nothing,” I lied quickly, looking away from Lance. I didn’t want him to see the glimmer of tears that had come unexpectedly to my eyes.

  “Yes, it is,” he declared. “Come on with the truth, supergirl,” he urged gently, taking the baby from my arms.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said softly.

  “Did I just hear you say you’re pregnant?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Damn,” he cursed.

  I looked over to see him staring at me as if I’d just grown another head. “What are you going to do?” Lance leaned in closer.

  I shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  “Does Mr. Rock Star know?”

  “I haven’t told Sean yet.”

  “Your parents?”

  “No!” I exclaimed, standing up and wringing my hands.

  “You have to tell them.”

  “When I’m ready,” I shot back, following him into the bedroom and watching as he laid little Michael on the bed and began to change his diaper.

  “Man, you’re stressed about this, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you lose your cool like this,” Lance said while patting baby powder on Michael’s little bottom.

  “Please excuse me for not being as excited about parenthood as you when you found Michael outside your door,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Whoa…” He raised his hands in surrender. “No issues here. I was a mess. But look at me now.” Lance smiled, pointing to his handiwork.

  I looked down at the happy infant and my mouth softened into a smile. “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For putting me in check,” I replied.

  “No, the only person here that deserves some thanks is you,” Lance said as we walked into the living room.

  “Now,” he turned to pick up the phone. “Why don’t you take a seat? We can kick back and I’ll order in some food.”