Wives and Champions

by Tina Martin

  “I’m at Battery Park, taking the kids for a stroll.”

  “Nice. It’s a good day to be outside.”

  “It is. I figured I’d take them out to get some fresh air since Sherita was sleeping. She needs a break…had a rough night with them.”

  “Oh,” Dante said, surprised that Desmond was at the park alone with the kids. Not that he couldn’t handle it, but still…

  “I talked to Dimitrius earlier,” Dante continued. “We’re trying to go to a bar, shoot a round of pool or something.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “At a bar? We usually play pool at your place.”

  “I know, but not tonight. I need to get out of the house. You down?”

  “Um…not sure if I can,” Desmond responded, thinking about Sherita. He could see her pulling her hair out now trying to tend to the kids. He didn’t want that for her.

  “Come on, Des.”

  “Man, I can’t leave Sherita home alone with the twins. She’s stressed out enough.”

  “Then I’ll get Emily to go over there, or Sherita can come over here. They can hang out, do their girly thing and we’ll go do our thing.”

  Desmond sighed, stopped walking and adjusted his dark-framed sunglasses. “All right. I’ll find out if Rita’s up for it when I get back. If so, I’m in. I’ll give you a call this evening.”

  “All right. Sounds good.”

  * * *

  After leaving the park, Desmond took the kids to Sammies for frozen yogurt. Then he changed their diapers and cleaned yogurt off of their faces with baby wipes before loading them up in the jeep again, beginning the drive home.

  He’d successfully entertained them for two hours. Now he turned into his long, scenic driveway, parking behind Sherita’s jeep. He took the babies out of the back, walking to the door with them still in their car seats. He lowered Nolan’s car seat to the porch to unlock the door. Afterward, he entered his house, taking the babies to the family room.

  He unfastened Nolan and lowered him into the Pack-N-Play. When he tried to put Celeste in there with him, she began whimpering before her little voice squealed into an all-out cry.

  “What’s the matter, little girl?” Desmond asked, picking her up again and securing her on his shoulder. “You don’t want to play with your brother?” Desmond grinned. With Celeste much calmer now, he headed for the stairs to check on Sherita, assuming she was still in bed where he’d left her. Then he heard some commotion coming from the kitchen.

  “Rita,” he called out.

  “I’m in the kitchen, Des.”

  Hmm…that’s a good sign, he thought. From the looks of her earlier, he couldn’t imagine she’d be out of bed at any point during the day.

  “Let’s go see what mommy’s up to, Celeste. Be right back, Nolan.” He continued on to the kitchen where he saw Sherita wearing a plush, pink robe with a multi-colored scarf tied on her head. She had a knife in her right hand. Looked like she’d been slicing tomatoes.

  “You’re up,” Desmond said.

  “I am. I figured I’d get up, take a shower and wash my hair, even though I’m still tired,” she said after cutting the last tomato slice. She looked up at him. “Where did you take the kids?”

  “Battery Park.”

  “Oh. I see the sun shining bright, but that can be misleading. Is it nice out?”

  “Very nice. Next time, you’re coming with us.” He walked over to her, kissed her on the cheek.

  Sherita smiled at Celeste and said, “Hey, sugar,” then gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

  “What are you making?” Desmond asked.

  “Turkey sandwiches.”

  “You know I could’ve picked up something for us to eat.”

  “I know…just felt like preparing my own food for a change.”

  Desmond raised his brows. “Okay. Well, it looks delicious.”

  “Thanks. Where’s Nolan?” Sherita asked.

  “He’s playing with his toys.”

  “Did the kids give you a hard time at the park?”

  “No, not at all. We did a couple of laps and then I let them crawl on the grass for a while. They seemed fascinated. By grass.”

  Sherita giggled. “We really should make a play area for them in the backyard with a slide and swing set.”

  “We will, eventually. They’re too young for that right now.”

  Sherita took a package of Swiss cheese from the refrigerator and set it on the island countertop where she was working.

  Desmond watched her. Studied her. She still looked tired, so he knew she was telling the truth whenever she said she was tired. Even now, after her shower, she appeared unrelaxed and unkempt. The area right below her eyes was noticeably dark. She rarely wore head scarves, but she wore this one like a crown. And she’d gained weight during the pregnancy, exactly what she was supposed to do, but six months later, she was still hanging on to baby weight. Nothing wrong with a little extra from his way of thinking, but she seemed to have a problem with it, particularly with the added belly fat on her lower abdomen after having the cesarean section. He couldn’t recall the last time she made an effort to do her hair or wear some makeup. She wasn’t herself anymore, a far cry from the woman he fell in love with.

  Sherita brought their food to the table.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Um…I’m going to go get Nolan.”

  “He’s fine, Rita. Just sit down and eat.”

  “No. I’m not leaving him in the family room while the family is in the kitchen.”

  “Sherita—”

  “I don’t want to leave him in there by himself, Des,” Sherita said with a hint of panic and irritation in her voice.

  “Okay,” Desmond said, only because he didn’t want to frustrate her any further. She was flustered enough.

  Sherita quickly walked to the family room, scooped up Nolan and said, “There’s mommy’s sweetheart.” She kissed him on the cheek. He had been playing with one of his baby rattles – more like drooling all over it – and he wasn’t crying or making a fuss. He was extremely content.

  Returning to the kitchen, she sat across from Desmond, glancing up at him. He hadn’t touched his sandwich.

  “You’re not hungry?” she asked.

  “I am, but I’m more worried than I am hungry.”

  Sherita took a bite of her sandwich. “Worried about what?” she mumbled, chewing.

  “You.”

  “Me?” she asked, laughing it off. “Why would you be worried about me?”

  He frowned. Why? What did she mean why? And why was she laughing? “Okay, Sherita, I’m just going to say it.”

  “Say what, Desmond?”

  “You’ve been different.”

  “Different how?” She took a sip of water.

  “Since the babies arrived, you’re not the same, and I’m not saying this to argue with you. I’m saying it because I feel it needs to be said.”

  “So, I’m not the same…” she repeated. Her face flushed.

  “You’re getting upset. Forget it. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “No. Let’s talk about it now since you brought it up, Desmond.” She adjusted Nolan in her lap. “How am I not the same?”

  “First off, you’re always in bed. Always.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “Sherita, I took our children to the park without you because you were in bed.”

  “Yeah, I was in bed,” she snapped, “Because I was up for most of the night!”

  “Why are you yelling?”

  “Because you’re telling me I’m always in bed and that’s simply not true, Desmond.”

  “Then you don’t have to yell,” he said evenly. “You don’t have to raise your voice to talk to me. We’re trying to have a simple, husband-wife conversation.”

  “Yeah. Simple conversation,” she said mockingly.

  His forehead creased. “I started off by saying I was worried about you, remember
?”

  “Whatever.”

  Desmond sighed heavily. Sharply. “I’m not going to argue with you in front of our children. I refuse.” Desmond bounced Celeste in his arms. “You’re stressed out. You told me your blood pressure was elevated when you went in for your postpartum checkup. That’s why I planned the Myrtle Beach getaway for us, but even then you seemed jittery and overly anxious.”

  “I have two kids. I’m supposed to be anxious.”

  “We have two kids,” Desmond corrected. “And it’s okay to feel anxious, but it’s more to it than that, Sherita.”

  “You know what…I…I can’t do this right now. I just want to eat my sandwich. In peace.” She stood up with Nolan, picking up her plate with her free hand and walked to the family room.

  Desmond scrubbed a hand down his face. This wasn’t right. While Sherita claimed she was fine and just tired from breastfeeding, taking care of the kids and settling into her new role as a mother to two kids, he knew it was more than that.

  He stood up from the table and walked to the family room. When he stepped in, he noticed Sherita had placed Nolan on his play mat. So he placed Celeste on hers. Then he sat down on the couch next to Sherita.

  “Sherita, sweetheart, I’m not trying to argue with you, and the last thing I want to do is upset you, but something’s wrong, and I wouldn’t be the man of this house if I didn’t do something about it.”

  Sherita continued eating her sandwich like he wasn’t sitting there.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I told you, I’m not doing this.”

  “You’re not going to talk to me?”

  “No. I’m eating. I just want to eat.”

  “Okay,” Desmond said. “Then I’ll talk. I think we need to see a doctor. I’ve been doing a lot of research this past week and based on your symptoms, you’re experiencing postpartum depression. I know this is overwhelming. I mean, we’re a new couple and we hardly had time to get to know each other before you were pregnant, so that, along with the responsibilities of not one baby, but two is stressful…for the both of us.”

  Sherita narrowed her eyes at him. “How is it stressful for you?”

  “Because I’m learning just like you are. I don’t know everything about being a father. I’ve learned some things along the way, but what I do know is, you’re stressed out and I don’t like it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re not fine, Sherita,” he repeated. “This is not you. This is not the Sherita I married. You don’t attempt to do your hair. You don’t wear makeup – not that you need it – but still, it’s about getting up and presenting yourself to the world. You don’t try anymore.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sorry if my looks aren’t up to your standards anymore, Desmond.”

  “Don’t twist my words. What I said was—”

  “I heard you loud and clear,” she interrupted. “I’m not the same. I dress like a slob and I look a hot mess. I guess I better step my game up if I want to keep a man like you, huh?”

  Frustrated, Desmond shook his head.

  “Is that why we don’t go out anymore?” she asked. “You’re ashamed of me? Is that it? Scared we’re going to run into some of your colleagues and I’ll embarrass you?”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m being real, Desmond. I’m saying all the things you won’t say.”

  Desmond grimaced. He looked over at the kids to make sure they were okay before he took Sherita by the hand and stepped just outside of the door. He refused to argue in front of the children. “Listen to me. I am in no way ashamed of you. Do you want to know why we don’t go out anymore, Sherita? It’s because you don’t want to. You don’t want to do anything but work, come home, feed the babies and crash. How many times have I tried to arrange something for us, just you and me, and you completely go ballistic about how much work you have to do around here? Just last weekend, I canceled reservations at Connelley’s because you didn’t want to go.”

  No, she didn’t want to go. What she didn’t tell him was, the night before they were supposed to go to Connelley’s, she had tried on several dresses and couldn’t fit any of them. Those flat abs she used to have were history, replaced by belly fat and stretch marks. She had read articles that suggested women who had C-section incisions wouldn’t lose the belly fat near the scar which for her meant, no more two-piece bathing suits, fitted dresses and sexy blouses.

  Then there was her hair. No one told her that, with pregnancy, her hair would shed more than normal, especially in the temple area. How was she supposed to dress up and feel pretty, sexy and confident in a dress that hugged her gut while rocking thin, stringy, lifeless hair?

  And what about the kids? She was very protective of them as any mother should be of their children. But it had taken thirty-six interviews for her to settle on a part-time nanny to take care of the babies four hours a day for four days a week. Her mother watched them for the remaining four hours. Even then, Sherita still called multiple times throughout the day to guarantee their safety. How could she leave them behind while she ate dinner?

  “Sherita?”

  She looked up at Desmond, held his gaze while tears pooled in her eyes. “What?” she asked, broken-spirited.

  He reached up to touch her face, but she ducked her head out of the way. She didn’t want his hands touching her face. She could see the weight gain there, too, along with a bit of slight skin discoloration. She had no doubt, he could see it. Why would he even want to touch her face?

  Desmond grimaced. “Sherita, why—” He paused, took a moment to think. “Um…maybe you should spend some time with Emily and Melanie tonight. Maybe they can give you some advice. As a matter of fact, why don’t you do that? I’m supposed to be getting with Dante and Dimitrius later, anyway, so I’ll help get the babies ready. We can ride over to Dante and Emily’s together.”

  “Whatever you say,” she said with a trembling voice, crossing her arms. “Is that all?”

  Speechless, Desmond looked at her. In business, he proved to be more aggressive. In a marriage to the woman he loved more than his own soul, he couldn’t be that way. It was something he was learning every day – how to separate the two. How to deal with her. How to be there for her emotionally which sometimes meant giving her space to make her own adjustments. He would get through to her at some point, but it wouldn’t be today and definitely not in this moment. “Yes, Sherita. That’s all.”

  Sherita walked away from him, headed for the bathroom while batting a tear away from her face as she did so.

  Desmond hung his head. His plan was to talk to her about the sensitive topic of postpartum depression without upsetting her. He’d failed. The tears in her eyes told him so.

  Way to go, Des. You screwed that up, big time.

  He shook his head and walked back into the family room, sitting on the floor with his children, watching them play while thinking of ways to help his wife.

  Chapter Four

  Since they all met at Dante and Emily’s house, the brothers rode together to the bar. Desmond drove, was quiet as he did so with the exception of asking Dante which bar they were headed to. Now, sitting on barstools, the brothers waited until they could get the first few swallows of their drinks down before any conversation began.

  Desmond opted for vodka on the rocks. Dante and Dimitrius went with whiskey – Bourbon.

  “Can’t believe it’s only a few minutes after eight,” Desmond said. “I must be getting old.”

  Dimitrius grinned. “You hear this, Dante. The youngest of us is complaining about being old.”

  Dante smirked. “Being the oldest, I should be the one complaining about getting old, don’t you think?”

  “Not necessarily,” Desmond said. “I have more children, so...”

  “That’s your rebuttal?” Dante said, laughing after he did so.

  Dimitrius chuckled. “Is that how it works?”

  “Yep,” Desmond said after takin
g a sip. “That’s how it works.”

  “These gray hairs sprinkled throughout my head are saying otherwise.” Dante took a sip of his drink and continued, “Even still, if that’s your argument, that you have more kids, then you’ll have to find another one because I also have two.”

  Desmond frowned. “Meaning what?” he asked, knowing Dante only had one child – a son.

  “Yeah,” Dimitrius asked, turning to look at Dante. “What does that mean?”

  Dante took a sip. He sighed heavily then said, “What I’m about to tell you does not leave this bar.”

  “All right, so spill it,” Dimitrius said.

  “Okay, so, ah...Emily is pregnant, but she won’t tell me.”

  Desmond’s face twisted. “She won’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Then, how do you know she’s pregnant?” Dimitrius asked.

  “Because I know. I can feel it. Her mannerisms are different. She’s glowing. You know how pregnant women get that glow. You’ve seen it in your own wives.”

  “Still doesn’t mean she’s pregnant,” Desmond said.

  “Maybe she’s just,” Dimitrius shrugged, “I don’t know. Evolving.”

  Dante looked at his brother sideways. Maybe that liquor has gotten to your brain. “What are you talking about, Dimitrius?”

  “Hold on,” Desmond said. He didn’t know about Emily, but he

  certainly felt like Sherita was evolving. “Dimitrius may have a point. If you didn’t see a pregnancy test, then—”

  “I don’t need to see a test. She’s pregnant. She’s my wife. I know.”

  “All right,” Desmond said, palms up.

  “What I don’t understand is, why she refuses to tell me,” Dante said.

  “Don’t know, bruh,” Dimitrius said. “Maybe she’s waiting for the right moment.”

  “Or she could be worried about how you’re going to react,” Desmond added.

  “But that’s the thing. She knows I want another child. We had an argument about it last night at dinner.”

  “An argument about what?” Dimitrius asked.

  “I brought up the subject of another child, and she blew up, talking about how we didn’t spend enough time with Ezra.” Dante shook his head.