by Candice Dow
“You’re an asshole.”
“C’mon Ku. You’re avoiding the situation. Let me explain.”
“You said that you didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore. You don’t have to say anything else.”
I felt compelled to explain. I took a deep breath. “Ku, let me tell you why.”
“Just shut the hell up. You’re going to lie anyway.”
How could she not want to know? I dropped my head. Maybe if she understood why I needed to leave, she would be better for the next man. Suddenly, my head pounded. The next man? Was I prepared to see her parading around New Haven with a new man? But, I was even less prepared to make a lifelong commitment to her inflated ego. “I’m not going to lie.”
She huffed. “What do you want from me? If you have something you want to say, just say it.”
“I love you.”
“You don’t love me.”
“I just don’t think we’re compatible.”
“Stop the bullshit. Who is she?”
We pulled up to the house. Before I could get around to her side, she hobbled out. I tried to grab her arm. “Slow down.”
“Who are you fucking?” she yelled.
“I’m not fucking anyone, but I do have strong feelings for someone.”
I waited for her to swing. Instead, she looked to be amazed at the words coming from my mouth. I hung my head. “I’m sorry.”
She plopped on the couch. For the first time since I said I wasn’t happy, her sensitive side finally appeared. She wept. “Why are you doing this to me?”
I sat beside her and put my arm around her. “I’m sorry. You deserve someone else.”
“No, I deserve you. I have molded you into the man I want you to be and you’re going to go off and share that with someone else.”
I sighed. “That’s the problem. I don’t want to be molded. I want to be me. And sometimes I feel like I’m on pins and needles with you.”
Her eyes softened. “I can change.”
I sat speechless. Finally, I conjured up something. “That’s just it. I don’t think you need to change when it’s someone you want to be with.”
“What are you saying?”
“When it’s right, you don’t have to make any personality adjustments.”
“Your bitch. Who is she?” She shook me vigourously. “Who is she?”
“You don’t know her. She’s in Maryland.”
She pushed my shoulder. “You’re going to leave me for a bitch in Maryland.”
“Taylor. Remember I told you about Taylor.”
She banged me again. “I hate you. I hope you die.”
“Akua, I don’t want us to hate each other.”
She hit me again. “Too late. I already hate you.” She huffed, “Don’t say shit else to me. I mean it.”
“Akua . . .”
She screamed, “Don’t fucking talk to me!”
She waddled in the bedroom and yelled, “I hate you.”
I slumped down on the couch. Could I really expect her to want to hold a conversation with me?
25
DEVIN
After my condo contract was approved and I was actually given a closing date, it was time to explain to my ex-wife our new schedule. I opted to tell Nicole first. When I picked her up from school, I took her to Cold Stone Creamery. She can handle any kind of news when she’s eating Sweet Cream mixed with Snickers and caramel.
When she came out of the building, she ran to me. “Daddy!”
I stooped down for her to kiss my cheek. She rambled on about her day. She is such the opposite of Jennifer and me. She speaks with so much drama. Where did she get so much personality? When she took a quick breath in between stories, I cut in. “Baby, guess where we’re going?”
She used my arm as a bungie cord and jumped up and down. “Tell me, Daddy. Tell me.”
“Cold Stone.”
“Yea! I can get um . . .” She said, “Ah . . .”
I completed her thought. “Sweet cream with Snickers.”
She scrunched her nose. “No, I don’t eat that anymore.”
“When’d you stop eating that?”
She poked her tongue into her jaw. “Um . . . Daddy, I haven’t had that since before I went back to school.”
“So, you stopped eating it two months ago?” Her concept of time made me chuckle. “So what do you eat now?”
She put her index finger to her cheek. “Um, coffee ice cream and um . . .” She slowed down. “Can we call Mommy? I can’t remember.”
I handed her my cell phone, while we stood outside of Cold Stone. Her eyes batted when Jennifer picked up the phone. “Hi, Mommy. What are you doing?” She giggled. “Getting ice cream with Daddy.”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked at me. “I don’t know. Because he loves me.”
I nodded approvingly. Then with confidence, she said, “He brings me here because he loves me.”
She giggled. I pinched her cheek. She rambled for a moment, “I called you because what is the ice cream that Aaron always brings me.”
Suddenly, I found myself not wanting to buy her what Aaron brought her. She blew a kiss over the phone. “Bye, Mommy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I opened the door and asked, “So what kind do you get now?”
“Cake batter and heaf candy.”
I corrected her, saying, “It’s Heath.”
“Aaron gets it for me.”
I took a deep breath and decided not to steal her joy. Why should it upset me that because Aaron loves Jennifer so much, he also loves Nicole?
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
I messed her hair. “Yes, Nicole.”
“You look sad.”
Damn. Did women’s intuition start this early? “I’m okay. Just trying to decide what I want.”
She ignored my façade. “Daddy, do you like Aaron?”
“Do you?”
With a timid expression, she nodded.
“What’s wrong?”
She pouted. “I don’t want you to be sad.”
“I’m not sad, baby.”
“Will you ever get a girlfriend?”
I chuckled and ordered our ice cream. After I paid, we stood at the counter to eat. Finally, I answered, “I’ll get a girlfriend when you turn eighteen.”
She started to count on her fingers. When she realized it was too much, she frowned. “Daddy, you’ll be an old man when I’m eighteen.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes you will.” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be by yourself.”
“I’m okay, Nicole. Trust me. You make me happier than any girlfriend.”
“Mommy said you’re lonely. That’s why you’re mean to Aaron.”
“Mommy’s just hatin’.”
She giggled. “Yeah, she’s just hatin’.”
“Don’t tell her what I said though.”
Just as Jennifer’s sneaky comments come back to me, I knew for sure this one would get back to her. After our quick diversion, I got back to the purpose of the ice cream.
“Remember I told you that I was looking for a house in DC?”
She nodded.
“Since I’ll be there two weeks a month, we’re going to have to change our schedule. You won’t be with me three days a week. Instead you’ll be with me for one week. Then, your mother for a week. Back and forth like that. How does that sound?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Don’t tell your mother. Let me tell her.”
She nodded and asked, “Do you want to call her now?
“No, I’m going to take her to dinner tomorrow.”
“You like Mommy, don’t you?”
How could I not like Jennifer? Every time Nicole says something clever, if nothing more, I appreciated her. I nodded. “Yes, I like your mother.”
Her eyes squinted and she folded her body like someone tickled under her arm. “I knew it.”
“Yep, you knew it.”
Adrianna picked
Nicole up from school, so Jennifer and I could meet at the Shark Bar. When she came rushing in, I was sitting at the bar sipping Grey Goose. She stepped up to me, “Okay, Devin. What’s up?”
I turned toward her. When her hair was pulled off of her face, she looked stunning. She’d lost almost fifteen pounds as she planned for her upcoming wedding. I looked her up and down. She returned the gaze through her Burberry glasses. She smirked as if her analysis of me didn’t bring her as much satisfaction. I smiled. “Hey, Jay.”
She sat on the stool beside me. “What are you up to? You only call me Jay when you’re up to something.”
“I guess you know me.”
She did an impatient eyelid flutter. “I guess.” She leaned her elbows on the bar. “So, what’s up?”
“Would you like a drink? Our table will be ready in a minute. I did ask you to dinner, right?”
“Yeah, and . . .”
“Why are you looking at your watch?”
“Well, I was hoping we’d be out of here by eight.”
I nodded. “We should be. Now, do you want a drink?”
“Shiraz.”
We were two drinks in by the time we sat at the table. I asked miscellaneous questions about the wedding and about her job. Finally, she leaned toward me. “Devin, I can count the number of times you’ve asked me out to dinner since our divorce and—”
“And.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “And I’m curious what you want.”
“Can’t I just want to take you to dinner for general purposes?”
“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “Devin, this just brings back those feelings I don’t want to remember. Until I met Aaron, every time you asked me to dinner, I prayed that you were tired of being out here and you wanted to reconcile. And it was never that. It was always about something you could have said over the phone.”
Her confession shocked me. I squinted. “Jay, I’m sorry. Forgive me for wanting to just have parental conversations with you over dinner.”
“It’s cool.” She joked. “I’m over your ass now.”
We laughed. It has been years since we’d found each other funny and it actually felt good. She laughed harder. “Devin, you’re old news.”
“Okay, I see how it is.”
“So what parental issue would you like to discuss Mr. Patterson?”
“Well, Mrs. Patterson—”
“In ten months, you won’t be able to call me that.”
Before I realized it, I said. “Jay, you’ll always be Mrs. Patterson to me.”
“You’ve always been a dreamer.”
As we enjoyed each other’s company, I was apprehensive to tell her my plans. “You know I opened a Legislative Division of Patterson & Patterson in DC. Right?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“I’ve been doing more consulting than initially planned.”
“Devin, don’t tell me you’re moving to DC.”
“I’m going to be back and forth. I still have a business to run and a daughter to raise.”
That seemed to alleviate the stress forming in her face. She sighed. “What are your plans, Devin?”
“I plan to be here two weeks out of the month. We’ll swap weeks, instead of days.”
“Devin, I don’t know if that’s healthy.”
“You didn’t think swapping days was healthy.” I paused for her to reflect on our achievement. “We’ve managed to raise an intelligent, outgoing, respectful little girl.”
“Nikki’s not going to take this well.”
“We’ve talked about it.”
“Do you really think she understands how long being away from someone you love is? When you go on business trips for a week, I have to hear her whine about when you’re coming to get her.”
Wishing my ambition didn’t interfere with Nicole’s happiness, I dropped my head. “I know Jennifer. I know. I’m sorry.”
“Devin, I wish I could say I understand, but I don’t.”
How could she part her lips to tell me that she didn’t understand? Did she understand that she confessed to trapping me? Did she understand that I sacrificed my dreams to live in New York and be close to my daughter? Why was she trying to ridicule me?
“I’m not asking you to understand. I’m just telling you what I plan to do.”
“So, Nicole is just secondary to what Devin wants.”
I poured more Shiraz in her glass. “Jennifer, don’t try to make me feel bad. You act like . . .” I sighed. “Whatever.”
She sipped her drink. “Devin, you know, this is not about me. You’re not inconveniencing me by being in DC. You’re hurting your daughter.”
I swallowed more Grey Goose to soothe the pain. How could she question my loyalty to my baby? My rising temperature and the burn going down my throat made me want to explode. My teeth clenched together. My jaws pulsated. She rolled her eyes. I reached across the table and wrapped one hand around her throat. The ball of my thumb cut off her air passage. She gagged. Relentlessly, I choked. Her head banged against the wall.
I looked down to find that I was not gripping Jennifer’s neck. Instead, my fingers were clamped tightly around my glass. Closing my eyes to erase the vision of strangling her, I swallowed. “Jennifer, that was a low blow.”
“Oh well. This is a low move you’re making.”
If she were more into me instead of into marrying me, she would have listened to my dreams. This was no low move. This was a move for my daughter. I took a deep breath and finally asked what I always wondered, “Do you say things just to hurt me?”
She swallowed the last of her third glass of wine. Either her eyes watered or I’d missed her yawn. “Devin, I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m a mother and it hurts to see my child hurt.”
“I’m a father. I would never intentionally hurt my daughter.”
“Devin, I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Our food came. She looked down at her plate and mumbled, “Why do you get so defensive?”
“I’m not defensive.”
“Whenever I question your judgment, you take it as an attack.” She continued, “There’s always this tension between us for no reason.” She closed her eyes. “You’ve never forgiven me for intentionally getting pregnant. As much as you love Nicole, you still see me as the enemy.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t think I can tell you anything about being a parent because I asked for this. Right?”
“Nah, it’s not like that.”
Her voice got louder. “Devin, she’s six years old. Let it go. Anything you missed out on because of what I did in bad judgment, it’s gone.” She stared into my eyes. “I’m sorry, Devin.”
Why hadn’t she been able to apologize to me before? I dropped my head for knowing how much I held her accountable for.
“You’ll never move on until you let go.”
I frowned. “Let go?”
“Yes. Let go of your anger.”
“Anger?”
“Yes. You’re angry.” Obviously inebriated, she giggled. “You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Yes, you do. But, you’re a great guy.”
“What?”
“You could have just run away from us, but you stayed, despite hating me.”
Trying to prove it to myself and to her, I shook my head. “I do not hate you, girl.”
We hadn’t shared a moment like this since months after Nicole was born. Suddenly, I found something lifting off of my heart. Maybe all I ever wanted from her was an apology and for her to acknowledge how I rearranged my entire life to adapt to her sneaky trap. More than that, I forgave myself for believing in her. The girl across the table was the one I fell for. “Maybe I did hate you.”
We laughed. She shook her head. “That hate is only pulling you down. I love you, Devin. You deserve to be happy.” She sighed. “You won’t be happy until you forgive me.”
“I forgive you, Jay. I forgive you.”<
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26
SCOOTER
If I could take her pain away, I would do it in a heartbeat. She lay in the bed we shared, watching our relationship crumble to pieces. Each time I stepped into the bedroom, she’d throw something or curse at me. After forty-eight hours straight of this, it began to sound like background music. As the weekend approached, my heart was in limbo. Should I stay and doctor her and deal with her verbal abuse or should I go and solidify the relationship I want to be in?
When I sat on the edge of the bed, she moved her leg over. I stared at the wall and took a deep breath. She snapped, “Why the fuck are you in here?”
“Maybe because I care.”
“You don’t care about me. I swear, I hope you die.”
Her words were so brutal. I rubbed my eyes. “Yo, it doesn’t have to be like this. We were friends first.”
“What makes you think I want to be your friend?”
Decisions needed to be made. As long as she could avoid talking to me by talking at me, we could not come to a resolution.
“We have to discuss what we’re going to do.”
“I can’t even walk and you want to know what I’m going to do. I’m not going anywhere. If you want to leave, you can go.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to continue to pay your half of the rent.” She sucked her teeth. “We’re going to have to replace the carpet.”
As she ran down the additional money I needed to resolve the relationship, I began to reconsider. It’s cheaper to keep her. How was I to finagle this whole situation on my resident salary?
My search for freedom began to feel like entrapment. I touched her thigh. “Akua, you don’t think you can find a roommate?”
“You find a damn roommate! You think I’m going to make this easy for you.”
“You’re right.” I paused. “I’m going to Maryland to see my family this weekend.”
“Are you calling that bitch your family?”
“You know my grandfather is sick.”
She winced and I jumped because I thought I bumped into her foot. After throwing a highlighter at me, she shouted. “You think I’m stupid. Your grandfather has been sick forever and you haven’t gone to see him.” She panted. “Is your mother in on this?”
