by Nia Arthurs
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what needs to be done.”
“But—”
My phone buzzes before she can finish that. Zora snaps her mouth shut.
My first instinct is to ignore the ringing, but when I pull out my phone I see that it’s Kent calling. For a while there, I forgot that his wedding was today.
“I should take this.”
Zora wraps her slender arms around her torso. “Of course.”
“Hello?” I walk to the other side of the room. “What’s up, Kent?”
“Dude, where are you? We’re doing the toasts and the best man isn’t here.”
There’s a knock at the door and Diandra calls out, “Wilson! We need to go!”
“Wait,” Kent’s voice shrieks in my ear, “you’re with Diandra? I thought you were starting something with Violet?”
I wince. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Kent, are you and Di—”
I hang up on him and turn to face Zora. “I need to go.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” I promise. “Try to stay calm.”
“Yeah.”
I open the door and almost collide with Diandra. Guilt stamps her face as she grins nervously at me. “Hey, you guys work everything out?”
I stride past her without answering the question. “Let’s go.”
Thomas is waiting for me by the front door. He stands in my way and stares me down. “What are you going to do?”
Diandra grabs his arm and tugs. “Thomas, I know you want to beat Wilson to a pulp and I understand that but we really need to go. Please. For Amaya.”
He lingers for a second, but then steps aside, nostrils flaring and disapproval glistening in his dark eyes.
Diandra urges me out the door and we race back to the hotel.
I have no idea what I say during Amaya and Kent’s toast—probably something along the lines of what an inspiration they are, how true love exists and other cheesy phrases I’ve heard in movies.
All I can think about is Zora and the fact that, from now on, my life will be marked by the night we slept together.
Violet’s been vocal about marrying a man without children. She’s my dream girl, the woman I want by my side the day Kent gives a toast at my wedding.
Did my mistake with Zora ruin my chances of a future with Violet?
Chapter Four
Zora
Thomas doesn’t come upstairs and I avoid going downstairs until I absolutely have to. When I finally creep into the living room, my brother is sitting in the dark, slumped into the couch.
“Thomas? Are you… alive?”
“How could you, Zora?” he croaks.
My heart breaks. It’s obvious Thomas has been trying to grapple with our new reality since Diandra and Wilson left hours ago. It’s equally clear that he hasn’t found an answer. Or at least, not one he likes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He straightens and pins me with an accusing glare. “Is ‘sorry’ going to cut it when that kid grows up without a father? When he has to watch his ma hustling just to feed him? Don’t apologize to me. I’m not the one who’ll suffer.”
I bristle. “Who says my kid’s gonna suffer?”
“Single mothers have it rough, Zora. Don’t try to pretend that you’re Wonder Woman. You have no idea what you’ll lose because of this. What your kid will lose.”
Since my kid wasn’t even on the radar until this afternoon, I’m a little confused by how sure Thomas is that my life is ruined.
“What?” My brother frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re not talking about me, are you?”
“Who else would I be—?”
“Mom.”
His jaw clenches. “Glare all you like. This is how she started. Some punk knocked her up and we all suffered for it.”
“Mom did the best she could. We turned out alright. Between us we’ve only got one criminal record and a few parking tickets.”
“This isn’t a joke, Zo. You’re pregnant for some white guy who lives in America. Mom should have taught you better, but she didn’t. Between her three jobs and her crappy boyfriends, she didn’t have time to.”
He’s starting to get on my nerves, but I know Thomas means well so I brush my annoyance down. “In case it’s not clear, mom and I are two different people. And Wilson’s not like our father.”
“Then why did you hate him?”
Thomas has me there. “Well…”
“I’m assuming he was a jerk to you.” Thomas scoffs. “He and our father could form a club.”
“Wilson and I just don’t see eye-to-eye, but he’s a good person.”
“Good? That why he slept with you when he doesn’t even like you?”
“One thing led to another. We were both a little out of it.” I lick my lips because I don’t want to jump into a blow-by-blow of my night with Wilson. “The point is he’ll stick around. He promised.”
Thomas snorts.
“I believe him,” I insist. “We’ll work it out.”
“Yeah, right. At the end of the day, he’ll walk just like they all do. I can’t… I never wanted this for you. Neither did Mom.”
“And you think I did?”
“Then why did you have to open your damn legs?” Thomas roars. He takes note of my shattered expression and lowers his head. “I’m sorry. I’m just—this is a lot.”
“Take me home. I think we both need a breather.”
Thomas rises and palms his keys. “Yeah.”
My brother remains silent the entire drive back. I’m glad. Any more yelling and I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself. Thomas is forgetting that I just found out about this today. It hasn’t really soaked in yet and he’s already piling on the guilt.
I’m full of my own what ifs.
What if I’d never gotten drunk that night?
What if I’d been more vigilant about using protection?
What if—as Thomas rightly pointed out—I never had sex with Wilson in the first place?
But there’s really no sense in wishing I could make a different decision. There’s no time machine that can ship me back to that night so I can slam Wilson and his baby-making parts away from me.
What’s done is done. All that’s left is figuring out a way to provide and care for this kid without screwing him or her up.
My brother stops in front of my apartment and shuts the engine. The car falls silent. My hand shoots out toward the handle so I can make my escape, but Thomas’s voice calls me back.
“I’m going to fix this.”
I freeze and glance over my shoulder. “What does that mean?”
He says nothing. Just stares a hole through the windshield.
“Thomas,” my voice trembles, “you can’t kill him. If you go to jail, my kid would lose his father and his uncle.”
“I’m not going to kill him.”
“Then?”
“I’ll fix it.” He shrugs.
Fear for Wilson wells in me, but Thomas looks determined. I frown. “You promise you won’t hurt him?”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Wilson!”
“Fine.” His eyes flash. “I won’t hurt him. Too much.”
That’s all I’m getting for now.
I climb out of the car and drag myself up the stairs. On the third step, I have to clutch the railing and catch my breath.
Before I found out I was pregnant, I thought the lethargy was from overworking. Guess my body was just preparing for it’s little guest.
Knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better.
As I crest the landing on the second floor, I notice a group of people huddled in front of my door. My heart thumps and I almost fly back down the stairs until I recognize the woman in the wedding dress.
My jaw drops. “Amaya?”
Her head whips up. “Zora, oh my gosh.” She sails toward me, brown arms pumping at her sides. Next th
ing I know, Amaya’s hugging me. She smells like licorice for some reason.
“Uh… what are you doing here?”
She leans back so I have a full view of her gorgeous face. Whoever did Amaya’s makeup knew what he was doing. The girl is flawless.
“Diandra told us everything. I can’t believe you’re—”
“Pregnant?” I scream. “She told you?” Blabber-mouth.
“Pregnant? Wait, you’re pregnant?”
Footsteps rush toward me. A moment later, Diandra skids to my side and whispers in my ear, “I didn’t tell them about that.”
“You’re expecting?” Kent throws his arms wide. “Congratulations!” When I don’t smile back, his grin falters. “Or… my condolences? I—”
Amaya glares at her best friend. “You said she was just feeling sick.”
“I was trying to keep it a secret.” Diandra narrows her eyes. “I didn’t think she would spill the beans herself.”
“Did you really rush over here on your wedding night just because you heard I was sick?”
“Diandra said you were throwing up after the wedding. I thought I’d come check on you before our flight.”
I’m touched and slightly horrified. Amaya would have been none-the-wiser if I had kept my mouth shut.
“Who’s the father?” Kent asks.
I clear my throat. “He’s—”
“Hey, won’t you guys be late if you don’t leave soon?” Diandra blurts.
We all turn and stare at her.
Smile firmly in place, she grabs both Amaya and Kent and drags them toward the stairs. “There’s plenty of time to share the details later. Paris waits for no one.”
“But—” Amaya tries to squirm away.
I shoot her a nervous smile. “Diandra’s right. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Enjoy your romantic honeymoon.”
Amaya keeps struggling, her gaze on my face. “I want to talk a little longer.”
“Babe, I hate to point this out, but Diandra’s right. We should leave now. We’re playing it close as is.”
Diandra salutes. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll stay with Zora and give you hourly updates.”
“Why?” I mumble. “It’s not like I’m giving birth yet.”
“Just go with it,” Diandra hisses from the corner of her mouth.
Amaya frowns. “If you’re sure…”
“Positive.” I wave. “Bye!”
We watch them scurry down the stairs and then I let Diandra in. She sinks into the couch and lets out a deep breath. “Amaya was so concerned about you, girl.”
“I can tell.” I fall in beside her. “Why didn’t you want me to tell them about Wilson?”
“Are you kidding? The minute Kent hears you and Wilson had a one-night stand that resulted in a child, he’ll flip.”
“So?”
“Then he’ll cancel the trip. Then their honeymoon will be ruined. Then they’ll spend their first night yelling at Wilson and fighting over what to do. Amaya’s been through too much. She deserves a romantic vacation with her husband.”
“I guess.”
“What about Thomas?” Diandra kicks her foot up underneath her. “What did he say?”
“That he’d ‘fix’ it.”
“Meaning?”
“I have no idea.” I chew on a fingernail. “He promised he wouldn’t kill Wilson though. So that’s a plus.”
“Poor Wilson.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I glare at her. “It’s not like I held him down and forced him to sleep with me.”
“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… he’s so in love with Violet. Amaya said they were childhood sweethearts until Violet broke up with him. Wilson’s never gotten over that. Or her. And lately…”
“Wilson already told me. He and Violet have been talking again.”
“The last thing he needs is a child out of wedlock. It’s not a good look. No shade to you.”
I make a face. “I’m still offended.”
Diandra turns to me, her voice grave. “What made you decide to have this baby?”
She said ‘this’ baby for a reason. A good one.
There was another baby. He or she would have been five by now. I was nineteen at the time. In nursing school. My mother had just died and I was starting to suspect my boyfriend was cheating on me. I couldn’t even comprehend the idea of taking care of a child.
So I got rid of it.
It’s a choice I regret and one I force myself to forget everyday. But I can’t. No matter how hard I try.
There are moments when I imagine what my life would have been like if I had kept it. What would the kid have grown up to be?
A doctor? Teacher? Lawyer?
An artist? Inventor? Songwriter?
But I try not to think about that. Whenever I do, I feel so much sadness. And so, so much guilt. Enough to swim in it. Drown in it. There’s no salvation from the pointing fingers in my own mind.
Sometimes I wish I had Kent’s amnesia. I wouldn’t mind the ability to write away all the memories that cause me pain and keep the ones that make me happy.
Diandra is staring expectantly at me. I avoid her gaze and focus on my hands. “Just because.”
“Come on, Zora.” She screws out her lips. “Be real with me.”
“I want to give him or her a chance. To live.”
Diandra jerks his chin down. “Okay.”
“That’s it? You harp on me for an answer and that’s all I get?”
“What do you want me to do? Scream?”
“Yeah.”
“No thanks.” Diandra kicks back and grabs for the remote. She turns on the television. “What do you have to eat here? I couldn’t stay for the reception because I was too busy babysitting your baby daddy.”
“Wilson?”
“Yes, Wilson. Who else?”
I ignore her attitude. “Why? What was he doing?”
“Staring into space all night. Drinking. Trying not to cry.”
“Really? He was crying?”
“No, but I wouldn’t blame him if he did. At least Violet wasn’t there tonight. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that conversation goes down. ”
“Huh.” I pop out of the couch. “I’ll see what’s in the cupboard. You just make yourself comfortable.”
Diandra waves me away, her gaze still stuck on the television.
As I grab a bag of corn chips from the cupboard and pour it into a bowl, I realize I’m curious about Violet’s reaction too. Thomas was furious about the pregnancy, but he’s my brother. He’ll stick around no matter what.
What if Wilson’s not so lucky?
Chapter Five
Wilson
It’s been a week since Kent’s wedding. His social media page—an account opened and managed by his wife—is chock full of pictures of them strolling the streets of Paris and dining at charming little cafés.
Good for him.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, my life is falling apart.
“Mr. Barton? Sir?”
I straighten and focus on Milton Anderson, the chief financial officer of the company. “Yes, I’m listening.”
“Are you?” Milton frowns. His lips are long and stretch across his face like the Joker’s so my eyes immediately drop there as he speaks. “I was asking—how long are we planning to keep the other Mr. Barton on the payroll?”
“As long as this company is running. There will be no changes to the structure.”
“But, sir, he hasn’t reported to work in months.”
“So?”
“I…the others are getting anxious. Mr. Barton is receiving his full salary without putting in the work while—”
“While what? Are we cutting anyone’s pay? Threatening mass lay-offs to keep Kent in the system?”
Milton’s naturally glassy brown eyes roll to the floor. “No sir.”
“If it wasn’t for Kent and the B-Jogger app, we wouldn’t have a company and yo
u, Milton,” I thrust a finger, “wouldn’t have a job.”
“Yes, sir. I understand that, sir.”
“Tell anyone who has complaints to see me. I’d be delighted to give them a history lesson. Also, Kent is developing another app as soon as he gets back from Paris so he’s not working for free.”
Milton is trembling so much I’m afraid he’ll crap his pants. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Barton.”
I lift a hand in dismissal.
He scampers away and slams the door behind him. The silence wastes no time filling the room. I tap my fingers against the wooden desk and spin the chair toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
My gaze falls on the city skyline—there’s a sliver of sky above hundreds of towering buildings. It’s stunning in it’s own way, but I can’t help comparing this concrete jungle to the beauty of Belize. I can count the skyscrapers there on one hand.
Belize is all natural. Authentic. The land of the free. Everywhere I turn, I can see sky, earth and sea. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed being there until I came back home.
I’m due for another visit soon. Which is exactly why I’ve been so off my game lately.
Belize no longer represents vacation time. It’s the home of my child’s mother. If the baby is born there, it’s the nationality of my child.
My child.
I’m going to be a father.
I still can’t believe it. Don’t think it’ll sink in until I hold the kid in my arms and stare at his or her wrinkly, caramel-colored face. If I’ll even be invited when he or she is born.
The truth is Zora and I weren’t friends when we slept together. She caught me at a moment when my inhibitions were low, my sex drive was high, and my attraction to her felt like the most blazing hot thing I’d touched in my life.
But now that night is gone and all we’re left with is a kid we didn’t ask for.
Zora and I have exchanged a few texts in the name of civility, but there’s no connection there. No relationship.
She’s carrying half my DNA in her womb, but I know next to nothing about her except that she’s a nurse; she has a brother who hates me, and she has a thing for neck kisses.
Not that I’ll be laying any kisses on her anytime soon.
