She Ain’t the One

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She Ain’t the One Page 12

by Mary B. Morrison


  Quietly I cried, wondering all sorts of things. Who was Tracy? What did she look like? Was she prettier than me? Younger? Older? Could Tracy fuck Jay better than I could? Could she make him happier than I could? Would Jay leave me for Tracy and Jason? How could I compete with Jason for Jay’s heart? For Jay’s time? I didn’t want to share Jay with anyone, especially a three-year-old. I wasn’t worried that Jason was Jay’s only son. What bothered me the most was, Tracy lived in D.C. and I lived in Dallas.

  The outdoor lights beamed through the living room’s vertical blinds, casting a dim light, as if the room were lit by candles. Desperate to uncover the truth behind Jay’s confession, I searched for signs of another woman’s presence.

  I should go back to bed. I’m the woman in his house. He gave me a key. What more do I want? What am I going to do if I find something? I should trust him until he gives me a reason not to.

  I scanned his coffee table, end table, sofa, and chairs, on top, and underneath. I shoved my hands between the cushions, digging for earrings, panties, or whatever I could find. I found nickels, dimes, quarters, and lint. I stood in front of the entertainment center’s wide-screen television, glanced at the DVD and CD players, then peeped between his bookshelves. Nothing stood out. Sniffing the Persian rug, I had to know if a female’s scent lingered. The only hint of a familiar freshness was Febreze.

  As I suspiciously opened the door to his guest bedroom, the first thing I noticed was his laptop computer on a rectangular desk by the window. The screen was black. I skated my finger along the mouse pad, and the screen brightened to a colorful display. Jay was logged on to the Internet. A closer look revealed that Jay’s e-mail account was fully accessible.

  Leaning over the laptop, I couldn’t resist clicking on the drop-down button to check the latest Web sites he’d visited. My eyes froze. Ten or more URLs were for apartment complexes in Dallas. A few more were for jewelry stores; specifically, engagement rings.

  Why must my foolish heart keep searching for something wrong with this man? I didn’t know why, but I turned on the light, then opened Jay’s desk drawers. All of his bills were current. Opening the file cabinets, I scanned his divorce papers to Kenya, his birth certificates for two kids, not three. The one for Jason was missing. Next, I slid the mirrored closet door to the far left. The shoe boxes on the top shelf were out of reach, so I rolled the computer chair in front of the closet and shook each box. The rattle inside the black Nike box clearly wasn’t a pair of size 13 shoes.

  Swiftly taking the box into my trembling hands, I removed the lid. Inside were stacks of letters. As I read the addresses, I saw they were sent from Tracy Brown, postmarked three years back. The letter on top was never opened. Jay’s name was crossed out and the words RETURN TO SENDER were boldly printed across the top.

  Opening the letter, I found a check and a note:

  Tracy,

  I’m never going to stop loving you. I promise you one day we’ll be together. Believe that. I’m really close to divorcing Kenya, and if you’ll have me, I want to marry you. I want to spend my life with you. Nothing or no one makes me happier than you. I know your old man hates me. Can’t say I blame him. Tracy, my one and only true love, here’s another check for $500 for our son. Next month I get a raise, so I’ll start sending $600. Mark my words, one day we will be a family.

  Without a doubt truly yours,

  Jay

  Stuffing the check inside the envelope, I don’t know what possessed me, but I sat on the bed and kept reading until I’d read every single love letter in the box. Crying, I thought there was no way Jay could possibly love me more than this woman Tracy. I can’t compete with her. When the sunshine peeped through the window, I stood on the computer chair, sliding the black box into its original space.

  “Ashlee, what are you doing?”

  Damn near falling off the chair, I hadn’t heard Jay enter the bedroom. I’d forgotten to close the door. How long had he been there?

  “Oh, I…I was just, um, looking…”

  “For?” Jay questioned, waiting for a response.

  “Well, baby, if you must know, now that you’ve ruined my surprise, I was checking to see what size and types of shoes and clothes you like. That way when I shop for my man, I can buy you what you like.”

  Laughing, he said, “You are unpredictable. I’ve never had a woman who cared so much about me. Usually it’s the other way around. I’m the one buying clothes and stuff. C’mere and give me one of those juicy kisses.”

  Jay pulled me in close. His lips covered mine. I stood there letting him embrace me, but now I had more questions than answers about Tracy…but not for long. Soon I would know everything there was to know about Ms. Tracy Brown.

  Following Jay back into his bedroom, I was too stressed to have a G-spot orgasm, or any other kind.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, cupping my face into the arch of his palms.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I lied, knowing everything was wrong. I was so mad at Tracy for stealing my man’s heart that I couldn’t look Jay in the eye.

  “I’ma hop in the shower so we can catch brunch at Georgia Brown’s. I’m starved. Come scrub my back for me. I love the way you lightly scratch your nails into my flesh.”

  Now wasn’t a good time for me to scratch Jay. His flawless body might become flawed like mine. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

  Once I heard Jay happily singing Jamie Foxx’s “Unpredictable” in the shower, I dialed the investigator at my father’s attorney’s firm, thankful he answered on a Sunday.

  “Raymond, good morning. This is Ashlee Anderson. I apologize for calling so early—”

  “Hey, little Ash. How’s life treating ya?”

  “I could be better. That’s why I’m calling. I’ve only got a minute, so please listen carefully. I need you to find out everything you can about a Tracy Brown. All I know is she lives in D.C., she has a son named Jason Brown. The father is Jay Crawford, his address and phone numbers are…Jay has an ex-wife and two daughters…”

  I told Raymond the little information that I knew, then said, “Oh, hold on a minute. One more thing.” I hurried to Jay’s cell phone, which was resting on his nightstand, fully charged, and searched his phone book. That’s odd. No name entry for Tracy, and too many 202 area codes to guess. Hmmm.

  “That’s it for now, Raymond. I need to know whatever you find out right away. I’m engaged to marry Jay, and I need to know everything about everyone in Jay’s life.”

  “Well, your father taught you well, little Ash. I’ll send you an e-mail attachment with details.”

  “Including pics, Raymond. I need to see what this tramp, I mean woman, and her kid look like.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll get somebody from our D.C. office on it right away. Should I bill your father?”

  “No! Don’t bill my dad. Send the bill to my house. Bye.”

  Jay walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest glistened with baby oil. His smiled turned into a frown. “Who was that? And what are you doing with my cell phone in your hand?”

  “That was my son’s father, and since I was on my phone, I couldn’t see the time.”

  Silently, Jay pointed at the digital clock on his nightstand.

  “Baby, you know those clocks aren’t always precise. I trust cell phones,” I said, placing Jay’s cell phone back on its charger.

  “Well, I trust you, baby. C’mere.” Wrapping me into his slippery body, Jay asked, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your brother-slash–baby daddy. What’s your son’s father’s name?”

  Silence. Dead silence surrounded us. My heart raced with anxiety. I didn’t want Jay to know the truth. What made him ask that question?

  “I want to enjoy my last day with you before I go home. Can’t we talk about this another time?”

  “Baby, I asked you a simple question. I’ve told you about Tracy and my son. Don’t you think I deserve to know about your son and his father?
Since we’re going to be together, no more secrets.”

  Eventually he’d find out from my mom or the National Inquirer. I mumbled, “Darius.”

  Hunching his shoulders, Jay pushed me away, staring into my eyes. His look wasn’t as cold as the day he left me and my mom at Legal Seafood, but he obviously wasn’t letting up until I told him more.

  “Darius Jones-Williams.” There, I finally told Jay the truth.

  His eyebrows lifted. “The NBA player? He’s your brother? Your ex?”

  “Trust me, player is the operative word. Sit down for a moment so I can explain.” Partially folding one leg on the bed and placing my other foot on the floor, I faced the man that helped me to get over my ex.

  “Well,” Jay said, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me, “I’m all ears.”

  “My mom hates Darius because my dad met Darius’s mom when I was six and married Darius’s mom when I was ten years old. My mom didn’t want to raise me because I reminded her of my dad, so Darius and I grew up together like sister and brother, but he said it was okay to have sex because we weren’t biologically related.”

  “He who?”

  “Darius.”

  “That’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jay lamented.

  Exhaling, I said, “Long story very short, I have a soon-to-be one-year-old son by Darius, who’s being raised by Darius’s wife, Fancy.”

  Holding my hand, Jay asked, “Why isn’t your son with you? Doesn’t the court automatically award custody to the mother?”

  Here’s where the truth ended and the lies began. There was no way I could tell Jay I’d lost custody of my son because I’d endangered little Darius’s life on several occasions by almost suffocating him, by leaving him in a rental car overnight while I shared a hotel room with Darius, and the day Child Protective Services took my baby away, I’d left him in a running vehicle while I went back inside to answer Darius’s phone call.

  “You know how it is with these big-time athletes. Whatever they want, they get. After Fancy miscarried, Darius filed for custody of our son and they won.”

  Truth was, my conscience was eating me alive. I should be behind bars for the horrible things I’d done to Fancy and my son. I didn’t mean to hurt them. Tears welled up in my eyes. I buried my face in the pillow because I couldn’t face Jay. I especially couldn’t tell Jay that after my son was born, I lied to Darius and told him our son had died of HIV complications. I thought if Darius believed both of us had HIV, he’d only be with me. I also couldn’t tell Jay that I’m suicidal. I think my problem is…I can fall in love, but I don’t how to fall out of love without hurting myself or someone else.

  Jay’s strong hand traveled up and down my spine, massaging my back. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I know how much it hurts not to be able to see your own son. I hadn’t seen Jason in years.”

  I cried harder because the difference between Jay and me was that he wanted to see his son. I didn’t want to see mine. Little Darius was a constant reminder of his father, and if I couldn’t have both of them, I was better off not seeing either of them. I even refused to watch any of the Atlanta games on television just to avoid seeing Darius play basketball with Fancy seated courtside, holding my son.

  Hopefully, after last night’s lovemaking session without a condom, I was pregnant with Jay’s baby. That was it. Jay wanted us to have our own child! He was so clever. Otherwise, why would he have agreed for us not to use a condom? Oh, that’s right, I lied and said I was on the pill. Oh well. Too late to sweat the small stuff.

  “Baby, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, you’ll never have to ask me twice,” Jay said, pulling me up off the pillow.

  His arms pulled me close to his chest. I felt loved, safe, but I was still insecure about that Tracy chick.

  “Jay?”

  “Yes, Ashlee.”

  “Promise me you’ll never leave me, no matter what.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Jay

  It was Sunday night. I just finished watching The Sopranos and taking a shower before jumping into the bed. The sheets were cold, and I wished Ashlee was underneath the covers waiting for me. I stared at the ceiling, thinking of how perfect our weekend together had been, even though she was driving me crazy since she went back to Dallas with her constant calling and questioning me about Tracy. It was definitely time to start thinking more seriously about moving down to Dallas so she wouldn’t be so insecure. I was sure she knew I loved her, but the distance and her jealousy of Tracy were becoming a huge obstacle in our relationship. Stupid thing was, I hadn’t even seen Tracy but two times, once at the airport and the time we met at the park. Hell, I still didn’t even have her number. The more I thought about Ashlee, the more I had the urge to pick up the phone and call her. So that’s exactly what I did.

  “Hey, you,” she answered. “I knew you’d call.”

  “Hmm…is that right? You’ve got me figured, huh?” I smiled.

  “Yep.” We both laughed at that, and then Ashlee said, “So, Mr. Crawford, how was your day?”

  “It was good, kinda busy. I painted the guest room,” I replied, running through the day’s activities in my head. “Oh, and believe it or not I actually went to church. What about you? How was your day?”

  “It was good. I didn’t go to church, but I did a lot of thinking, a lot of contemplating.”

  “Contemplating, contemplating what?”

  “Killing your baby’s mama.” She said it so nonchalantly I almost took her seriously.

  “Excuse me!”

  She laughed. “Calm down, Jay. I was just kidding. You’re the one who always says I don’t have a sense of humor.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not funny,” I scolded.

  “I know, Jay, I’m sorry. Really, I was just joking. I would never do anything like that,” she said, then quickly changed the subject. “Jay, do you know I love you?”

  “Yes, baby. Do you know I love you too?”

  “Yes, but I love you more.”

  “No, boo, I love you more.”

  We went back and forth, debating who loved who the most. It was kind of fun, made me feel like a kid again. My train of thought was interrupted by a beep. Ashlee continued to sing more I-love-you’s until I stopped her.

  “Hold on a minute, Ashlee. Somebody’s on the other line.”

  “Who’s calling you at this time of night—” I heard her say just before I clicked over.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Jay?” a soft feminine voice asked. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I recognized Tracy’s voice right away.

  “Yeah. This is Jay.”

  “Jay, it’s Tracy.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as I smiled at the phone. Despite the fact that I loved Ashlee, deep down I still had a thing for Tracy. I guess I always would.

  “What’s up?” I was too shocked to say more to her. Although it was good to hear her voice, I never expected her to actually call, especially not so soon. I sat up in bed, anxious to hear why she had decided to call.

  “Jay, I need you,” she said in a desperate tone. I sat up in the bed immediately.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Jason and I need you to rush us to the emergency room. My parents are out of town. I didn’t know who else to call. Will you help us?” she asked, spitting her words quicker than I’d ever heard anyone speak.

  I panicked when I heard her say Jason and emergency room. Suddenly, I could hear him crying in the background. I jumped out of bed and grabbed a pair of pants. “Sure. What happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay, but I think Jason might be hurt bad. Please…just come as quick as you can. I’m scared.”

  I went to the dresser to write her information on a piece of mail. “Give me the address to where you are, Tracy.”

  She gave me the address to a Giant food store. I got dressed in between listening and writing the directions to her house, so by the time I hung up the phone, I
was only missing my shoes. They were sitting at the foot of the bed. I got a pair of socks out of the drawer and sat on the bed to put on my shoes. My phone began to ring. Oh, shit, I thought, looking at the caller ID. I’d completely forgotten about Ashlee.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Jay, what happened? I know you didn’t hang up on me.” She was in disbelief.

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Listen, a friend of mine from work is stranded, and I’m the only one who can help him out, so if you don’t mind, I’ll call you tomorrow.” I hated to lie to Ashlee, but I didn’t wanna hear her mouth.

  “A friend? What’s your friend’s name?” Ashlee’s tone was very accusatory. I had to think quickly.

  “Ah, ah, Jason,” I blurted out. I quickly realized my mistake and tried my best to cover it up. “I mean…ah…Jeffery.” Well, if she wasn’t suspicious before, she damn sure was now.

  There was silence before she spoke. “You think Tracy…I mean Jeffery would mind if I talk to you until you reach him? I had hoped we could chat a bit more tonight.” There was no doubt in my mind she was testing me.

  I made sure to be careful with my reply. “Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, but I still need to call you back. I can’t get dressed and talk to you on the phone at the same time.”

  “Hmm. Okay. Then I’ll look to hear back from you soon.” I was just about to hang up when she said, “Jay, you know I’d cut your dick off if I ever caught you cheating on me, don’t you?”

  Instinctively I placed my hand on my Johnson to make sure it was intact. “I guess it’s a good thing I never cheated on you,” I told her as I hung up the phone.

  I was out the door in a flash and in my car. I had no intention of calling Ashlee back. I loved her, but who needs her kinda drama when it comes to your kids? No matter how fast I drove, it seemed as if I couldn’t get to him quick enough.

 

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