by RM Johnson
“But—”
“Daphanie,” Nate had said. “Do this for me, please.”
Now, at a stoplight, Daphanie turned to Lewis. “So what happens now?”
“Ain’t nothing changed,” Lewis said. “Monica’s awake now. All you need to do is find out when Nate won’t be at the hospital and I’ll go and tell her every foul thing that motherfucker has ever done to Freddy, to me, and to her.”
Standing in front of Nate and Tim, Dr. Beck said that Monica was off the ventilator and seemed to be doing just fine.
“There’s no … no brain damage?” Nate said hesitantly, very fearful of the answer.
Dr. Beck smiled. “None whatsoever.”
“And when will you be releasing her?” Tim asked.
“We’d like to keep her here for observation for a few more days.”
“Whatever you think is best for my wife,” Nate said.
“Good,” Dr. Beck said. “Well, now that that’s all taken care of, I think you might want to go up and see your wife now.”
“Yes, I think I will,” Nate said, gratefully shaking Dr. Beck’s hand.
A few steps from Monica’s hospital room door, Nate turned to Tim.
“I’m almost afraid to go in there.”
“Why? The doctor said she’s fine.”
“To think I almost lost her. That a year ago I got her out of my life like she was some object,” Nate said.
Tim rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That’s over now, and you didn’t lose her. She’s right in that room, waiting on you.”
“Right,” Nate said, mustering up the courage.
When he walked into the room with Tim behind him, Nate saw Monica sitting up in bed, a couple of pillows propped up behind her back. The tube was gone from her throat and bandages were still around her head, but there were fewer of them. When Nate looked at Monica, he could see her eyes were clear. She recognized him, held out a hand to him, beckoning him toward her.
Nate stopped halfway to the bed—felt he might not be able to hold back the tears that might fall. He walked over, hugged his wife tight, sank his face into the crook of her neck, where he wept. Monica held Nate tight, rubbing his back, looking up at Tim, smiling, happy to see them both.
“I love you,” Nate said, his voice muffled.
“I love you, too,” Monica said, kissing him on the side of his face.
67
Later that night, Freddy propped himself up above Joni’s nude body. She squirmed under him, moaning, her palms on his hips, urging him farther inside of her.
Freddy lowered his face, kissed her full lips, and said, “I love you, baby.”
He meant every word. He had let go, realized there was no reason to fight it. Kia was gone. His aborted child was gone. Chicago was in the past. This was his new life, his future, and he realized he loved the idea of starting again with Joni.
“I love you, too, Freddy,” Joni said, her lustful eyes barely open. She moaned again. “I always have.”
Freddy brought her to orgasm, then climaxed himself. They used no protection. Afterward, Joni lay on her stomach, and Freddy lay on top of her, playing with her earlobe.
“What if somehow what we just got pregnant?” Joni said.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk like that, baby. You know—”
“It’s just talk, Freddy. What if?”
“Then we’d have it. You know that.”
“Would we be good parents?” Joni asked.
“The best parents,” Freddy said, going along.
“PTA parents?”
“I think you going a little too far now,” Freddy said, smiling.
“That’s okay. We kinda like parents already.”
“Joni—”
Joni turned over on her back, beneath Freddy. They lay face-to-face.
“I mean, what if we just kept Nathaniel?”
“Then we’d have no money. Then we couldn’t go nowhere. And then we’d get caught, sent to jail, and we wouldn’t be able to keep the kid anyway,” Freddy said, his voice firm.
“Yeah,” Joni said, not looking up at Freddy, but up at the ceiling. She had a dreamy quality in her eyes. “I know what you’re saying.”
Freddy heard a knock on the door downstairs, which startled him. He looked at the clock on the nightstand: 9:01 P.M.
“Who is that?” Freddy said, lifting himself off Joni.
“I don’t know.”
“You expecting anyone?” Freddy said, slipping up his jeans.
“No, but I’ll go down and answer it.”
Joni lifted her robe from off the back of a chair and put it on.
“What if it’s about, you know … him?”
“I don’t think so. It’s only been a day. Sometimes he’ll take off, go to Alabama or Tennessee with one of his male friends for a couple of days, and no one seems to miss him.
“I’ll be right back,” Joni said, opening the door. “Then I’m gonna want another go-’round.”
She closed the door, left Freddy standing in the middle of the room, feeling very paranoid and vulnerable. He spun in a circle, then hurried to the window. He looked out, then immediately fell away from it at the sight of what he thought was a police car parked in front of the house.
“Fuck!” Freddy spat.
He hurried back to his bed, yanked his gun out from under the mattress, and very carefully opened the bedroom door. He eased his way down the hallway and slowly descended the stairs, his back pressed against the wall.
On the last step, Freddy could hear Joni’s conversation. She was speaking to another woman.
“No, I haven’t seen him,” Joni said. “I know sometimes he’ll take off on a road trip with one of his friends.”
“Yeah, girl,” the woman said. Freddy could tell by her tone that she was a black woman. “I know, but for some reason I got a funny feeling.”
Freddy eased off the stairs and made his way into the dining room, holding the gun up. Joni had not seem him yet. She stood in the space of the open door, which was shielding her view of him.
“One of our coworkers’ birthday was today. I think Billy had a crush on him and I know he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know.”
“Billy told me you had a cute guy staying here from out of town. You think maybe he saw something?”
“No,” Joni said. “I don’t think he would’ve.”
“You think I can come in and ask him?” the woman said.
Freddy’s body tightened. He crept closer to the door, stood just behind it. Both his hands were wrapped around the gun. He held it right before his face. Joni must’ve sensed his presence. She glanced behind the door, saw Freddy there, then immediately frowned.
If they were to have any chance of getting away, he would have to kill the woman, Freddy told himself. It was that simple.
“No, that’s not a good idea,” Joni said to the woman, but something told Freddy she was really speaking to him.
“Why not? It’ll only take a second.”
Sweat was starting to accumulate in Freddy’s hands as he tightened his fists around the gun. Now! Now was the time.
“He’s asleep and he gets grumpy when he’s woken up. But I’ll ask him tomorrow. I promise. Besides, I’m sure Billy will probably show up or call you by then.”
There was no response. Freddy figured the woman probably knew Joni was lying, was considering pushing her way in anyway.
“Okay,” Freddy finally heard her say. “You’re probably right. Tell Billy, if you see his ass, that I don’t appreciate him having me worry like this.”
“I’ll tell him, girl,” Joni said, sounding like she really would see him again.
When the woman climbed into her car, Joni closed the door. She looked at Freddy, relief on her face.
“How the cops know—”
“She wasn’t a cop. She’s Billy’s partner. But it don’t matter. We gotta do what we gotta do and get out of here like now.
”
68
This’ll be it, Lewis thought, riding up to the third floor of the hospital the next morning. This will be the moment Monica realizes what a son of a bitch Nate is and leaves him once and for all for me.
Before leaving this morning, her purse on her shoulder, Daphanie had said, “I’m going to pick Nate up now. He didn’t tell me where I was taking him, but when I know he’ll be away from the hospital for at least a few hours I’ll call you, and then you go over there. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Lewis had said.
“And when you’re done, call me and let me know when you leave.”
An hour after Daphanie left, Lewis was showered and dressed, sitting on the living room sofa, his cell phone in hand, waiting for Daphanie’s call.
When the phone finally rang, she said, “I’m dropping him at work. He has a meeting, and he doesn’t want me to pick him up for two hours.”
Lewis had hurried out, jumped a train, and took it straight to the hospital. Now, as the elevator doors slid open before him, he froze, wondering just what he would say to Monica. Yes, he loved her, and he knew at one time she had loved him, too. But the last time he had seen her, she was cowering from him, holding his daughter like she thought he might hurt her. Monica had called the police on him, was going to press charges, have him sent to prison.
Lewis found himself standing just feet from the entrance to her room.
What should he say to her?
Tell her the truth, Lewis told himself. Yes, he would tell her everything, because knowing that bastard Nate like Lewis did, he knew Monica wouldn’t have heard it from him.
It would be over for the two of them, and she would have no choice but to come back to Lewis.
He took a deep breath, exhaled, then walked into the room.
Monica was there, sitting up in bed. The TV was on across the room, and she was in midlaugh, until she saw him. Her face became serious.
“Hi,” Lewis said.
“Why are you here?” Monica said, reaching for the intercom for the nurses’ station.
“No, wait!” Lewis said. “Can I just talk to you for ten minutes? I have something very important I need to tell you about Nate. About everything. About why you were shot.”
Monica looked surprised, then said, “You have ten minutes.”
“And that’s how I ended up right here,” Lewis said, after explaining it all to Monica. From Nate blackmailing Freddy, to Nate keeping Layla from him, to Nate planning to fly to Atlanta to rescue his son. Monica sat there silent in bed, her face emotionless during Lewis’s entire telling.
She sat there now, still silent.
Lewis expected some sort of reaction from her. Something. “Well?” he said. “After hearing all that, there’s no way that you can stay with him.”
“I’m marrying him, Lewis.”
“What? After what—”
“I knew about everything you just told me,” Monica said. “Nate told me everything.”
“He told you what I just told you?” Lewis said, hardly believing Nate would tell that version. The true version.
“Yes. Everything was the same.”
“And you’re going to marry him. Why?”
Monica let her eyelids fall closed for a moment. When she opened them, she said, “From what the doctors told me, I could’ve died. If that bullet would’ve hit a little closer to the center of my brain …” She paused a moment before going on. “Life’s not promised to anyone. I’m tired of going back and forth, and before this happened to me, Nate was the man I chose to be with, and I’m staying with that decision.”
Lewis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He felt himself growing angry. “After what he’s done to me. I ain’t got no place to live. He’s keeping my daughter from me.”
“Like I said, he told me all that. My house, it’s yours, Lewis. If you want it. Nate will give you the keys and arrange for the paperwork to be transferred into your name.”
“And Layla?”
“I’m going to miss her.” Monica smiled sadly. “But she should be with her father.”
Lewis lowered his head, feeling for some reason he should tell Monica the truth he had recently found out, but decided against it. He looked up sadly at her. “Do you still …”
“Don’t, Lewis,” Monica said. “If you want to know if I loved you, you know the answer is yes. Part of me always will. But I can only be with one of you, and like I said, I made my decision. So if you’d just …” She paused, emotion breaking into her voice. “If you’d just leave.”
Lewis took what he felt was one last look at Monica, turned, and walked out of her room.
69
Daphanie had just hung up the phone from speaking to Nate. She had been on her way to pick him up, but he told her his meeting would run over by at least an hour.
“Well, I can come back, then.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll call Abbey and have her pick me up. But thanks,” Nate said.
Daphanie didn’t know why, but she thought she heard more and more distance creeping into Nate’s voice each time she spoke to him.
After she hung up the phone, it started ringing a moment later.
“Hello,” she answered.
“I’m done.” It was Lewis.
“What do you mean? How did it go? Is she going to leave him?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Did you tell her everything about—”
“I told her everything. But she said Nate told her first. She said it don’t make no damn difference. She’s going to stay with him.”
Daphanie couldn’t believe it. “Even after—”
“After everything. She’s going to fucking stay with him. So you might as well forget about whatever plans you had to be with him, because it’s over.”
“I’ll talk to you at home, Lewis,” Daphanie said, and hung up on him. She tossed the phone to the passenger seat, grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, and yanked it hard, making a sharp U-turn.
Daphanie sat in the chair across the room from Monica’s bed for twenty minutes, just watching her sleep. While there, Daphanie could’ve done anything she wanted to the woman. She had gotten up and closed the door. She went over to Monica’s bed, just stood over her, looking down at her for five minutes, wondering what Nate truly saw in the woman. Monica was lucky, because if Daphanie wanted to hurt her, she could’ve. But that wasn’t the kind of person Daphanie was. She walked back to the door, opened it, and sat back down till Monica awakened. She still had bandages on her head. Daphanie figured her injury had not totally healed.
When Monica finally did wake up, she turned her face toward Daphanie, caught sight of her, and acted as though she had always known she had been there. Monica did not act startled or surprised to see her.
“How are you, Monica?” Daphanie said.
“Outside of having a little headache where the bullet entered my skull, I’m okay, I guess,” Monica said, pushing herself up in the bed into a sitting position.
Daphanie stood, pushed her chair closer to Monica’s bedside, then sat again and crossed her legs, laying her hands in her lap. “You’re probably wondering who—”
“You’re Daphanie Coleman, Nate’s ex-girlfriend. He told me there might be a chance you’d be coming to see me. Nice to meet you,” Monica said, slowly extending a hand.
Daphanie didn’t stand to shake Monica’s hand. She remained in her chair, a smirk on her face.
“Is there something I can help you with, Daphanie? Nate won’t be coming for a while. His meeting was—”
“Extended for another hour. I know, he called and told me that,” Daphanie said.
“Yes, I appreciate you being there to cater to his needs while I’m in here. But rest assured, as soon as I’m out, he won’t need your services anymore,” Monica said. “I’ll be able to take care of my fiancé just fine.”
Daphanie was speechless. She knew Nate was getting back with his ex-wife, but he had never menti
oned anything about marrying her.
“Look, Daphanie,” Monica said. “I don’t want to be mean to you. You’ve given me no reason to be. It just is what it is. We had gotten divorced last year for some silliness. He went his way, and I went mine. I was in a relationship, and so was he. I know you loved Nate, probably still do. I can’t hold that against you. Nate is a wonderful man when he wants to be, but now he and I are getting back together,” Monica said. “Can I ask you to just respect that and leave us be?”
Daphanie was seething inside. Why hadn’t she held a pillow over this bitch’s head when she’d had the chance? “He was going to marry me,” Daphanie said, her voice small and angry.
“I know. I’m sorry. He told me that.”
“We were trying to have a baby.”
“I know. Nate told me that, too.”
Daphanie stood, shouldered her purse, and stepped to the door. “He’s told you pretty much everything about me, hunh?”
“No, Daphanie. He told me everything about you.”
And this was her opportunity. How sweet would it have been to say, Well, he didn’t tell you the part about me being pregnant. But Daphanie knew that would blow to hell all the work she’d done thus far. She would let Nate tell Monica that on his own. After that was done, Daphanie wouldn’t have to worry about Monica ever again.
70
Freddy disconnected the call after speaking again to Nate Kenny. He had told the man what flight to be on, and where to drive the rental car.
Freddy and Joni agreed they would meet Nate in front of an old abandoned auto repair shop. Joni said it was half an hour away, right off the interstate, so it would be easy for him to find. It would be perfect.
After the call, Freddy turned to Joni, who was sitting on the sofa next to him, holding Nathaniel in her arms. The child had been dozing for the last fifteen minutes.
“Well, it’s done,” Freddy said. “Tomorrow at four o’clock.”
Joni smiled, but said nothing.
“What?”
