Guilt Trip

by Pat Simmons

  Shaking his head, he attempted to erase the memories. He didn’t want to think about the four months they shared: the concerts they attended, the New York weekend getaways, or the salsa lessons they took to dance the night away at Havana Saturdays. That was her roommate’s favorite spot.

  When he finished his meal, Ace cleared the area, rinsed the dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher. The sun was about to set and the temperature had cooled, beckoning him to the backyard deck. It was a showcase for entertaining with its inviting outdoor furniture, movable overhanging umbrella, and strategically placed plants and flowers. His favorite spot, it was like getting lost in a botanical garden.

  Getting comfortable in a recliner, Ace closed his eyes and allowed his food to settle. Before it got too dark, he would go jogging through the neighborhood. Maybe Kidd would be back in time and want to tag along. Without his running buddy, Cameron, and … his girl, Talise, he was lonely and restless.

  When Ace informed his cousin that he was finally accepting the opening in St. Louis, he purposely got off the phone before Cameron could ask questions about him and Talise. Since his arrival in town, he had definitely avoided further discussions with Cameron.

  As he tried to center himself, Ace couldn’t help but reflect on his current state of being. In the back of his mind, he could hear his mother’s words. This too shall pass, she would always say when trouble reared its ugly head.

  Where were Kidd and Eva anyway? They usually called or left a note with their whereabouts, as if Ace needed babysitting. At the moment, he would welcome a little company.

  Alone with his thoughts, he was restless and needed to find somewhere to get into trouble. Maybe he would take a ride as a way to entertain himself. His rental car was equipped with GPS. Besides, he had visited enough times to the point he wasn’t a stranger to St. Louis.

  Suddenly smiling, he missed being behind the wheel of his fully loaded Charger. Chuckling over distant memories of his prized possession, Ace closed his eyes. No sooner than he had drifted into a peaceful slumber, someone opened the kitchen screen door and let it slam shut. With one eye open, he saw Kidd standing over him with a wide, silly grin.

  “Hey, bro, guess what?” Kidd didn’t look like he had the patience for Ace to guess. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it closer to Ace.

  “I’m going to have a baby!” Kidd proudly announced, followed by a hearty laugh. “I mean, Eva is pregnant and we’re going to have a baby! I’m going to be a father … and a better one than our old man, Sam.”

  Ace couldn’t connect with Kidd’s ecstasy. As a matter of fact, he might be having an allergic reaction to the word “pregnant.” A sudden queasiness overpowered him that made him feel uncontrollably nauseated. Leaping from his recliner, Ace bumped Kidd out of the way and barely made it to the end of the deck. Promptly, he threw up what seemed to be breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  Kidd hesitantly came to his side. “Man, you okay? I don’t want you getting Eva sick.”

  Resting his elbows on the rail, Ace panted to catch his breath. Since when did he develop a nervous stomach? He knew he hadn’t caught a virus. He was fine before his brother dropped that bomb on him. Could it be possible that he escaped a so-called pregnant woman only to be trapped inside a house with another one? The irony of it all.

  “Ah, no, I’m fine. I think I may have gotten ahold of some bad food,” he said, offering a poor excuse.

  “I know you’re not blaming my wife’s cooking,” Kidd said in an accusatory voice.

  No, I’m blaming every pregnant woman in the world right now.

  Chapter Ten

  By the end of the week, Talise had notified her close circle—Sinclaire and Lois—of her condition. Although both women fully supported her, she knew they were concerned about her becoming a single parent. Only Ace could change that status, but he wasn’t offering. After his desertion, Talise would have some serious reservations about accepting a proposal from him.

  Next had been the dreaded call home to her father and Donna. She rated their response as mixed, but nonetheless it had to be done.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Talise had said, taking deep breaths to keep her voice steady.

  “’Bout time you called your old man,” Frederick teased. “I didn’t recognize this number. So how’s my baby girl?”

  She smiled at his warm greeting until she heard his wife’s voice—she couldn’t bring herself to say stepmother—in the background. “You’re not old, honey,” Donna corrected him.

  Rolling her eyes, Talise rushed her announcement. “Well, Dad, keep this number. I lost my other cell phone, so I changed carriers and upgraded with a better plan,” she babbled. Then swallowing, she let it out. “The reason why I’m calling is to tell you that your baby girl is going to have a baby.”

  Silence.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Donna asked from nearby. His facial expression must have spoken volumes.

  Frederick cleared his throat and stuttered, “A baby? When?” He paused then fired off a series of demanding questions. “Who is he? Did he ask you to marry him? What does he do for a living? Can he take care of you?”

  Tears began to trickle down Talise’s cheeks, but she managed to say, “My baby’s due sometime toward the end of January and …” She gritted her teeth before mumbling, “We broke up.” Ace actually walked away from her, but stating we broke up left her with some dignity.

  “Broke up?” he repeated and then mumbled some choice words. “Well, whatever is broken, he’d better fix it before my grandchild gets here. If that had been your mother, I would have married her in a blink of an eye. I’m not that old where I can’t knock some sense into him.”

  Talise’s heart warmed at her father’s possessiveness. She felt loved and greatly needed that feeling at the moment. “Daddy, we’re talking about your grandchild’s father.” An absentee father.

  “A broken leg, foot, jaw, or arm never killed a man,” he said with venom in his voice. He sighed as Donna seemed to scold him for his foolish talk.

  “I’m serious, baby. He’d better get his act together and be a man. Still, I’m here for you and the baby. Whatever you need, you’ve got it. You can always come back home so Donna and I can take care of you. I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandpa,” he said with such awe.

  There was a muffled sound and then Donna came on the line. “Talise, I’m disappointed … in that young man and your situation. I’m sure your mother would be too. Of course, we’ll help and send money to you every month until you can get on your feet.”

  Donna had already said enough, but as usual, she wasn’t finished.

  “Perhaps that young man will provide for his child. It’s a shame the jams couples find themselves in today. There’s all kind of protection on the market. He does believe it’s his—”

  “I’ll call Daddy back later. goodbye, Donna,” Talise whispered and hung up. Her heart could only take so many stab wounds before it was completely destroyed. It was clear what Donna thought of her “situation.”

  How had she trapped Frederick Rogers? Talise would never know. Her father seemed totally oblivious to Donna’s chilled behavior toward his daughters.

  Pregnant or not, Talise could never marry a man if he was controlling like Donna. Reality set in. Of course, that “if” was dependent upon whether a man wanted her with another man’s child in tow.

  By ten o’clock on Friday night, Talise was exhausted. She had worked her day job and started taking a few clients on Friday evenings. She seldom worked double duty, but without Ace in her life, she had free time now. Plus, her morning sickness had seemed to shift to night nausea.

  Desperately trying not to think about Ace, Talise wondered where he was and what he was doing. Did he think about her, or was she already forgotten? She was confused about his complex behavior that Friday night over dinner when she told him of her suspected condition. Looking back, that fateful night seemed like a lifetime ago.

  What would be the reason she w
ould explain to her child why his or her parents weren’t together? Talise didn’t even have closure, so how could she have an answer. If she could have done things differently, what would that have been: never moved to Boston, never agreed to a blind date, or never having slept with Ace? Bingo.

  Her mind drifted to when Ace had taken her to Velvets Friday at the Red Fez on Washington. The more women tried to get his attention, the more he was determined to focus on her. That night the chemistry between them started to sizzle. They partied hard and she had gotten drunk, but Ace didn’t take advantage of her.

  Then there was the night he suggested they have a late-night picnic on Boston Common. With a blanket, carryout dinners, and music downloaded to his iPhone, they had set out to enjoy the unseasonably warm temperatures in the month of April. That night had been like magic under the stars.

  “Tay, I want you to know my relationship with you isn’t like the others I’ve had,” Ace had said with feigned sincerity. “You’re special to me …”

  Her eyes misted now. She sniffed to fight back the tears. What was his definition of special?

  Relaxing on the front steps outside her apartment building, Talise shivered in the breeze. She loved Boston’s summer nights. With her legs crossed, she sipped on a tall cup of grape juice. Since the baby book said to eat frequent small meals and healthy snacks, her coffee and soda binges had been replaced with juices, water, and milk.

  Shifting her body, Talise nodded at a few neighbors as they entered or exited the building. She didn’t know most of their names but recognized a few faces. After about an hour of people-watching and taking in the warm air, her relaxed state was beginning to lull her to sleep.

  Tomorrow she had eight clients despite working extra time that evening. Sunday would start another work week at the airport. If Talise was going to be a single parent, she might as well get used to providing for two people.

  It was getting late. She needed to climb the three flights of stairs to shower and go to bed but kept delaying the inevitable.

  “How am I going to be able to stand on my feet all day at both jobs when the baby gets bigger?”

  Alone back in her apartment, Talise wished she had someone to keep her company. Lois kept her social calendar full and wouldn’t return any time soon from a happy hour with her colleagues.

  She longed to talk with Sinclaire, but her sister’s schedule still wasn’t permitting her time to Skype lately. Talise really could use some positive words of encouragement right about now. Firing off a quick email to Sinclaire, she hoped to coordinate a Skype video chat sometime in the near future. I just need to see your face a little more right now and hear you pray for me. I miss and love you, Talise. She hoped her sister would respond soon.

  A few minutes later, while she was taking a shower, the only thing on her mind was her new predicament.

  “Time for moping is officially over,” she told herself. However, her declaration wasn’t working. The more she gave herself a pep talk, the more depressed she became. But that didn’t stop her from trying.

  Talise sniffed as she reflected on her ancestors. Some time ago, her father taught her that the Rogers women were strong and determined. Surely they had faced discrimination yet still thrived in their education achievements and throughout the difficult challenges that came their way. Frederick also pointed out that she had similar personality traits. As Talise grew older, he constantly remarked that her physical features looked more like his side of the family.

  On Talise’s mother’s side, the Skinners were descendants of enslaved and violated people, but the women survived. Because of their adverse circumstances, they developed special gifts on how to hold the pieces of their family tighter. According to their dad, hands down, Sinclaire resembled that side of the family in looks and mannerisms.

  Talise recalled the brief conversation she had with her father’s wife. Donna was right when she stated her mother would be disappointed. But Marilyn would comfort her daughter in the most loving way possible. She could almost hear her mom saying, “What’s done is done. Repent and conquer the obstacles.”

  Pausing to dwell on her mother a bit longer made her smile. Talise recalled that Marilyn was also a fashion guru. She believed in looking presentable at all times. “You may be pregnant, but you don’t have to look ugly and pregnant,” her mom would probably say.

  Finishing her shower, she smirked at the conversations that could have been. Talise examined her face in the bathroom mirror. It could use some pampering. How could the adamant Ms. Rogers be found guilty of becoming lax in her own beauty regimen? The subject was something she constantly fussed at her clients to adhere to.

  For some reason, she couldn’t keep her mind off of her mother. Reflections on special times they’d spent together flooded her thoughts. At the moment, the exercise was proving to be some much needed therapy. Nothing succeeded in getting Marilyn down—nothing and nobody. Drawing on her mother’s strength, Talise was beginning to shore up critical support for her battle; her memories seemed to supply the encouragement she craved.

  After putting on a cozy pair of pajamas, she slid on her knees to pray. Talise had made a promise to strengthen her relationship with God, and it was time for her to make good on that promise.

  At first, she was silent, gathering her thoughts. Once she bowed her head and rested her face on her hands, she began, “Jesus, I know You are the one I’ve disappointed. Lord, I don’t know what is going to happen, so I need Your guidance. Please allow me to have a healthy baby. I’m stressed right now and baffled by Ace’s treatment, but shame on me for being the fool. I know it’s the reason why I should have waited until I was married.”

  She paused and shed a few tears. “I’ve made some bad choices, and I don’t know how to find my way. Please place people in my path to help me. Amen.”

  Before she could get up, Talise thought she heard Sinclaire’s voice reminding her to pray for Ace. Humph. Indignant, she was about to say Amen again as emphasis that she was finished praying. But the Lord pricked her heart with words from a verse Sinclaire had recently quoted her in an email. Matthew 6:14: If you forgive others when they wrong you, I will also forgive you. Sinclaire was trying to get her to understand that God is all about forgiveness. In order to truly move on, it was important that she forgive Ace.

  Forgive him? “Lord, Ace hurt me,” she said aloud. “I feel used and very foolish. I’m perplexed and ashamed, a bad role model for my innocent child. Jesus, I do love him, but I love my baby more. I’m not at the point where I feel I can forgive him. I can’t … but help him, please,” she managed to say before ending her prayer the second time.

  Getting to her feet, a peaceful feeling came over Talise. She noticed that when she prayed, it brought her some much needed peace. Her thoughts went back to the verse on forgiveness. She would have to read more in the book of Matthew. That’s where she would begin; maybe there was something God wanted her to learn from it and He was leading her there.

  Before she could do anything else, a sudden, belly-wrenching feeling overcame her. Rubbing her stomach, she made her way into the kitchen. A craving for warm applesauce and bread was all she could think about at the moment.

  Twenty minutes later when her stomach was satisfied, Talise went back into her bedroom. She opened several boxes stored on her closet shelf, searching for the Bible Sinclaire had given her four years ago on her twenty-fifth birthday. Once she located the blue leather-bound book, it quickly became a telling sign of her lack of devotion to God. The plastic wrapper had never been broken.

  Flipping through the crisp new pages, she began reading at the beginning of the New Testament. The first thing that caught her attention was the mention of the fourteen generations between Abraham and David, and then another fourteen before the house of David was carried away to Babylon. She would have to study that—and then the fourteen generations from David to Christ.

  Despite her minimum level of understanding, Talise continued reading until the en
d of chapter two. That is where the details of Jesus’s birth were described.

  Why was she prompted to read that passage? There was no comparison between herself and the Virgin Mary. Nor was her child the Christ who would die on the cross for anybody’s blemishes, faults, or sins. Her child was conceived of her sin.

  Her mind went back to something else Sinclaire had said to her: children are innocent and they have a purpose. Talise knew He regards little children as precious and protects them from harm.

  Closing her Bible and turning off the light, Talise scooted under the cover with a smile. God’s Word had given her the pep talk she needed most.

  Chapter Eleven

  Saturday morning, Talise woke ten minutes before her alarm was set to go off. The sun was already shining brightly outside her bedroom window. “I haven’t slept that good in weeks,” she said, stretching.

  After saying a quick prayer of thanks to God for waking her, Talise got up to start her day. She performed her morning ritual and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Pouring herself a tall glass of milk, she took a banana from the basket on the counter. The baby book recommended adding warm applesauce to a bowl of oatmeal. Glad that she had adopted the tip, the cereal gave her a soothing feeling. Talise felt ready for the day when she put together a healthy lunch and quickly cleaned up her mess.

  Humming, she returned to the bathroom and applied her makeup artistically. One might have guessed she was going out on the town instead of to work. Lois strolled into her bedroom and flopped down on Talise’s freshly made bed. A few curlers were dangling from her hair. Yawning, she squinted.

  Talise ignored her and walked across the room to her closet. Standing in her slip, she returned a black and gold printed dress to the rack. It was the third one she had tried on. Seven weeks pregnant. Soon, none of her dresses or clothes would be flattering.