by Tina Martin
Ava
. ~ .
“I TOLD HIM, Mom...told him about my sickness. I didn’t want to but it actually felt freeing.”
“So he came by?”
Drew is making a mess of his breakfast, splashing chunks of oatmeal everywhere, then smearing it on the table.
“Ma, hold on a sec...your grandbaby is playing in his oatmeal.” I get up from the table to grab some paper towels, wipe Drew’s hands and wipe the area of the table that he’s painted with oatmeal.
Returning my attention to the conversation with my mother, I say, “Yeah. Andre comes by every day to see Drew. We ate dinner, and he helped take Drew a bath and read to him.”
“Hmm...”
“What are you hmm-ing about, Mom?”
“From what you told me about him, he didn’t seem like the fatherly type. You know how those businessmen are...it’s all about the green with them.”
I want to tell her other things Andre said last night. Like the fact that he admitted he was in love with me back then.
“So how did he take the news?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. He left immediately after I told him.”
“Well, it’s good you got it all out, dear. Maybe now, he’ll be more understanding and stop threatening to take Drew away.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“You think he still might try to take him? Do you think he’s that type of man?”
“Yeah. You don’t know how angry he gets with me.”
“Is that usually his demeanor?”
Why my mother has a sudden interest in Andre is beyond me. But to satisfy her curiosity, I say, “He’s business-minded. Um, he’s a very straightforward guy, likes to have things his way. Very strong-willed. Determined. Compassionate at times, but when he’s mad, you know he’s mad.”
Mom went silent on me, then she said, “Well, let’s hope he’s not mad enough to take Andrew. I’m glad you finally decided to talk to him.”
“Yeah, I am too, actually.”
“So are you still meeting me on Friday to drop off Andrew?”
“Yep. Same spot,” I tell her.
“All right.”
“I’ll call you when I’m leaving so you’ll know when to leave.”
“Okay, Mom.”
After hanging up the phone, I took a shower and got Drew ready to spend the day at Clara’s. In addition to working an eight hour shift at preschool today, I also had the eight to midnight shift at the restaurant tonight.
I hated the restaurant job. I had to stand there, on my feet for four hours, listening to the manager complain that I wasn’t moving fast enough, customers whine about their food not being cooked to perfection or not having enough ice in their drinks. It was going to be a long day of screaming kids and whiny adults.
Andre
. ~ .
ANDRE WATCHED Scott walk in his office and close the door behind him.
“You don’t look so good, man,” Scott commented.
Andre grinned. He tried his best to get a good nights sleep, but he couldn’t. The entire night, he tossed and turned, thinking about Ava. He’d been imagining what it would feel like to have her in his bed, next to him again, skin-to-skin. He wanted her there – to smell her scent, to touch her face and brush his thumb across her pouty lips and tell her that everything was going to be okay. That he’d do everything in his power to ensure she was as healthy as she could possibly be.
“Why is it that you’re always questioning how I am or how I look, Scott?”
“Just an observation.”
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep. I haven’t slept well in days.”
“That must mean you told Michelle the wedding was off.”
“Not yet, but I will tonight.” Changing the subject, Andre said, “We have a lot of ground to cover today, so let’s focus.”
“Alright, boss,” Scott said, then opened his laptop and logged into his computer.
And Andre began to do what he did best to keep his mind off of things – flood his day with work. He knew his decisions in the next hours would forever change his life but he had to do what he had to do.
* * *
“You okay, baby?” Michelle asked, staring across the table at her soon-to-be-husband. She had her long, honey blonde hair flat-ironed and wore some hot pink lipstick. She was so light-skinned, she could pass for a white woman.
Andre tried to force a smile, but he couldn’t. “As well as I can be,” he said.
“Aw...my poor baby working all this overtime,” she responded, pursing her lips.
Andre analyzed her for a moment. Michelle was a smart, sassy woman, a corporate ladder climber who became marketing director at one of the most prestigious marketing firms in Miami. But like any relationship, there were things about her he didn’t like – like the rumors of her fraternizing with the male executives at her company.
There was also the fact that she didn’t want children, which normally would’ve been a deal breaker for him, but with everyone in his ear, telling him how perfect she was, that women like her only came along once in a lifetime, and how good of a life they would have together, he went with it.
Now as he looked across the table, he recognized that she was the exact opposite of everything he wanted in a woman. He wanted children (elated he had one now). He wanted a dog. A fenced-in yard. A play set in the backyard. And he wanted to have a conversation with his woman without it being about work and money.
“I’m glad you’re here because we need to talk,” he told her.
“Is something wrong?”
Yeah, there’s something wrong all right. “A few days ago, I found out I have a son.”
Michelle covered her opened mouth, appearing to have jerked her body in such a way that one would think she was doing a dry heave. “A son? Wha...what do you mean you have a son, Andre? You cheated on me?”
And once again, it goes back to you, he thought. “No. I didn’t cheat on you, but I heard you’ve been doing a good job of cheating on me.”
She popped her lips. “What’s this nonsense you’re talking, Andre? You’re the one with a child.”
“Yep, and he’s a year and a half old. You do the math,” he told her.
He watched Michelle become livid.
“So what are you going to do about this, Andre? We didn’t want kids, remember? It wasn’t a part of our plan.”
“No. It wasn’t a part of your plan. I always wanted children.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did, Michelle.”
Michelle sighed. “Well, I hope you have things under control with that boy’s mother—”
Andre frowned. “His name is Andrew.”
Michelle rolled her eyes and popped her lips once more. “I tell you this much…I will not have a child running around in my home, messing up my Persian rugs and being loud and rowdy and just...ugh.”
“First of all, it’s my home and I don’t care if Andrew runs through the house with muddy shoes and spill chocolate milk all over the floors. It’s my house and he’s my son.”
“Since when is it just your home.”
“It has always been my home, Michelle. You were just going to move in when we married but that’s not going to happen.”
“Good evening folks. Are we ready to order?” The waiter interrupted.
“Actually, we won’t be ordering dinner tonight,” Andre told him.
“We’re not?” Michelle asked, snapping her head back.
“No. We’re not.”
The waiter walked away.
“Okay, wait...what’s going on here?” Michelle asked. “I thought we were fine. I’m making wedding plans and—”
“You’ve been cheating on me, Michelle. Even before I asked you to marry me, I knew it. The wedding is off.”
“Is that so?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
Andre leaned back in his chair and stared at her. He couldn’t believe he’d proposed to this woman. What on earth was h
e thinking? “Yeah. That’s so. I can’t marry you. I don’t love you, and I know you don’t love me so...”
“Well,” she said standing. “Guess we have nothing more to talk about.” She grabbed her purse and stormed out of there. There was no emotion, no sadness, not one single tear. She didn’t care about him or their wedding. To her, their marriage would’ve been just another transaction.
Andre was relieved it was over. Finally, he could concentrate on the woman he truly loved. His only hope was that she loved him the same.
Ava
. ~ .
MY HEART ALMOST jumped out of my chest when I opened my eyes, first thing on Saturday morning, to see Andre staring into my face like I was a piece of art on display.
“What are you doing here, Andre?”
He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at me, and has a look on his face of satisfaction, a very relaxed look – one of nostalgia.
I sit up and rub my eyes. Maybe I’m imagining this, but when I look again, there he is. I make sure I’m fully covered as I try to read him. Is he happy? Angry?
“Andre, I told you Drew was going to be spending the weekend with my mother, right?”
“Yeah, you told me.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because we need to talk, Ava.”
“About what?”
Instead of answering me, he says, “I’ll be in the kitchen when you get up.”
I so need my key back...
On the other hand, it was a delight to see his face first thing in the morning. He scares me at times, but there are certain things I adore about this man – his hazel eyes, the way he walks, the way he smells. He was truly one of a kind, which is why I’m still shocked that he chose to spend so much time with me in Nassau.
When he first approached me on the beach and asked me out to dinner, my first thought was, yeah, right...you must be lonely if you want to go to dinner with me. But turns out he genuinely liked me.
I finally get out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and slide into my robe. I can’t take a shower right now – not while he’s here.
I head down the hall, to the kitchen and I smell food. Did he cook breakfast? As I turn the corner, I realize that he did.
Before I could say anything, he says, “I noticed your refrigerator was bare, so I went shopping for you.”
“When did you do that?”
“Late last night.”
“So...you were here all night?”
“Yes, watching you sleep,” he says, and his mouth forms into a smile.
I cringe. I’m not what you would call a pretty sleeper. I’m a far cry from those girls who could lie in bed look all put together and graceful. And I snore a little too, one of the reasons I sleep on the couch sometimes when Drew’s home. I don’t want to wake him.
“Thanks,” I say. “Not for watching me sleep but for the groceries.”
He smiles again. “You’re welcome.”
“Today is normally my day to shop, but since you’ve taken care of it, I don’t need to, so I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, Ava. I...ah...I made some scrambled eggs and ham...wasn’t really sure what you wanted or could eat, so I stuck with our Paradise Island breakfast, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember.”
He prepares a plate for me and places it on the table. The eggs were scrambled soft, ham cooked to perfection, and the toast was just right.
Without asking me what I wanted to drink, he pours a glass of orange juice. Then he sits across from me, watches me eat for a moment before taking a full fork of eggs to his mouth.
“So how’s Andrew?” he inquires.
“He’s good...talked to him before bed last night.”
“And how are you?”
The question surprised me a little because he hadn’t inquired about my well-being since we started talking again. So I know it was all because of my heart condition. Now that he knows I’m sick, he wants to be nice, courteous and understanding.
“Andre, you don’t have to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Be nice to me just because you know I’m sick now.”
“How often do you see a doctor?” he asked smoothly, like he didn’t hear me.
Just a few days ago, he hated me...threatened to take my son away. And I understand why he did it – he wanted to hurt me because he said I hurt him, so I really don’t need the nice guy act.
“Let me worry about that,” I say to him.
“You are the mother of my child. I need to know he’s in good hands.”
I frown. “Are you insinuating he’s not in good hands, because I’ve been taking care of Andrew just fine without you?”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Ava. I just want to know that my son is okay. You said it yourself that you’re sick, so—”
“Yeah, I’m sick, but Andrew is fine. He’s being taken care of and everything is fine.”
I watch him take a sip of water as he contemplates what I said. Then he responds, “I think you should be wearing one of those emergency pendants, just in case you need to call somebody for help.”
Jeez...now he sounds like my mother...
Ignoring him, I keep on eating. I hate it when people think they know what’s best for me. And what makes him think I want to talk about my personal life and my health? I didn’t even know he would show up today.
On Saturdays, I usually sleep in, get up around eleven to prepare breakfast and then do laundry, housework and shop – not listen to someone remind me that one day soon, I’m going to be dead.
“Did you hear me?” he asks.
I take a sip of juice and say, “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“You’re to it now.”
“What is your problem?” I finally ask. “I don’t want to talk about my health, okay? I don’t.”
“Well, I do, Ava.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you,” he says without a blink, without any hesitation whatsoever.
Tears fall from my eyes. Could it be? After two years apart, he still loves me? How could he after what I did to him? I shake my head because I know it can’t be true.
“No,” I say.
“And I want to be with you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. And before my face became a teary mess, I walk over to the sink and slump down over it, trying to process this while at the same time, trying to save face and that’s when I notice that there’s a gold, diamond ring on my ring finger. I analyze it for a moment then turn around to look him square in the eyes, holding my left hand out.
“We’re still married,” he says, walking over to me.
I get chills when I feel his hands cinch my waist. “Look at me,” he says.
I can’t control my tears, and I suddenly begin shaking like I’m cold, but I’m nervous and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I love you,” he says again.
I shake my head. “No, Andre.”
“I do.”
“But I’m dying.”
“Really, because you look alive to me.”
He has so much hope in his eyes. For the first time this week, I see the man I fell in love with in Nassau, the man who went above and beyond to please and accommodate me. “Andre you can’t do—”
“Listen to me very carefully. There’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind.”
I shake my head once more. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. So I try to get through to him one last time. “Andre, I can’t allow you to fall in love with me.”
He smirks.
“I’m serious,” I say, wiping tears from my eyes as my lips tremble. “I won’t let you do this to yourself.”
“Then I would love to see you stop me,” he says, staring at my lips, then pushes his lips against mine.
I tremble, feel like I’m about to crumble against him. I gently tried to nudge him away, but he covered my hands with his strong, large
ones and say, “Let me take care of you. Let me be there for you and our son. I want to be here for you, Ava.”
Still confused and defiant, I turn away from him. “Just a few days ago, you told me you hated me.”
“I was angry, but I never stopped loving you, and now that I have you again, I’m never letting you go.”
He folds his arms around my torso and holds me like he’s afraid of losing me again so I know there are a lot of emotions running through the veins of this man. I temporarily decide to hold off on my argument against his love for me. I know I have to wait until he’s a tad more rational, until he can think with his mind and not his heart.
* * *
I’m able to talk openly and freely with my mother now that Andre has left. He said he had a meeting, then gave me a kiss against my temple and told me he would be back.
For the first five minutes of the phone call with Mom, Drew dominated the conversation. Then when my mother takes the phone back, she tells me how Drew was starting to run now. Said she’d taken him to the park and he attempted to climb the ladder to a slide. When she took him off of it, he tried to run across the park to another slide.
Anyway, after finding out how Drew has been, I told my mother that Andre definitely wasn’t going to take Drew away from me. Told her he’d confessed to loving me, told her about the ring he put on my finger to signify our marriage in Nassau that apparently was a legitimate, valid one.
She couldn’t believe it.
Honestly, I still don’t. What would possess a man to love a woman like me? To set his heart up for blatant disappointment? Was it because I’d given birth to his son?
If knowledge is truly power, then at some point, he has to recognize I’m going to die, so there was no need to waste his time on me. However, he doesn’t seem to let that influence his decisions. In fact, it seems to be doing the opposite. It makes him strive to love me harder. I knew the week we spent together was magical, perfect, the most enjoyable time of my life. I didn’t, however, realize the impact it had on him.
