by Katie Dowe
“Vaneese tells me that Amy started crawling actively at nine months – though she did a lot of rolling on her tummy before then, sometimes pulling things close. Maybe he’s going to be a genius.”
“Or an Olympian athlete,” Cameron said, grinning. “He’s certainly becoming more alert now.”
They both watched as Ezra, drawn to Cameron’s voice, had started his slow, snail crawl to his father. He resembled a sort of wriggling fish as he persisted. Aleshia helped unload the chilled ingredients into the fridge and freezer respectively, whilst Cameron sorted out the cupboards. The food was nothing imaginative – neither parent had particularly good cooking skills, but they were trying to learn. To try and be more productive, and not just live on take-outs and Vaneese’s cooking.
“How was work today?” Aleshia scrunched up the shopping bags and placed them into a single cloth bag, which contained up to thirty others, all squished in. It made a loud rustling sound that startled Ezra – he fixated huge, unblinking eyes on the commotion, before resuming his glacial crawl toward Cameron.
“Could be better, could be worse,” Cameron said, taking out the stale, half-eaten slices of white from the bread-bin and throwing it in the trash, “The man who designed this house has completed another, and it’s in our company to be sold. He’s gone for something that looks like a church on the outside, with the steeples – but with a hi-tech futuristic aura inside. It’s impressive. He asked about you.”
“He did?” Aleshia watched as Ezra finally reached Cameron, and began tugging at his legs, fussing, until Cameron picked him up.
“Yeah. He likes to know what kinds of people choose his houses. I said you were a writer and that you wrote amazing poems. He wants you to write him one about the house.”
Aleshia laughed. “Consider it done.”
They sat around the table where Aleshia worked amiably. Cameron scrolled through news articles on his phone, checking how the presidential campaign was going. Both he and Aleshia thought the debates that raged across television and sprung up by numerous concerned celebrity writers were a farce, and that the sides should stop trying to cripple one another and work together on concentrating on what America needed the most.
In return, Aleshia removed herself from the sphere of politics, but enjoyed some of the discussions Cameron brought up. Her wide adventures on the internet led her to a variety of sites. Her current favorite thing to do was browse the platforms 9gag or Imgur, where people shared stories or displayed funny pictures. She’d taken to linking some of the pictures to Cameron at work, and he took the time to send her one back in his free breaks. The current one on their Facebook messages showed a cat on a table glaring at the camera, before it deliberately knocked off a glass of water.
Aleshia stared at the man before her, holding a gurgling Ezra in one arm as he scrolled, and smiled at the sheer luck her life had given her. Seven months since she had given birth. Gail returned to Minnesota shortly after post-partum, and came for a month trip when Ezra turned three months – just before Aleshia’s wedding. She helped pass invaluable wisdom, along with Vaneese. Amy loved coming over to see her cousin, and insisted on calling him “Erzie.”
In the arrangements for the small wedding affair they had, they registered in a small chapel in southern Miami, with a miniscule audience. Meeting Cameron’s parents a month before had been nerve wracking, and seeing them in the chapel, along with two sets of grandparents, contrasting with her mother, Vaneese, and Dijon, Aleshia realized how small her family was. She didn’t have aunts or uncles, or any living grandparents. All the family consisted of was her mother, sister with husband and child, and Cameron.
Cameron’s father, David, kept a careful, blank face when talking to Aleshia, betraying nothing of the thoughts or disapproval he might have held within. Breaking with tradition, Aleshia’s mother led her daughter up the aisle. Aleshia wanted to invite her friend from Minnesota, but had not spoken in depth to the friend since her run out state to Miami. Besides, Anna also still spoke to Peter, and Aleshia did not want Peter to get a whiff of her current position in life. If he knew she had married someone less than a year after breaking up with him, there would be murder.
After the ceremony, Aleshia took the time to get to know Cameron’s relatives better. Ezra slept soundly the whole time, guarded by Vaneese and Gail. Cameron’s mother, Natasha, took Aleshia to the side at one point, and gave her a well-meant hug. Strong, strawberry scented perfume wafted into Aleshia’s nostrils, and Natasha’s long, dark hair gave a faint aroma of coconut. The contrasting scents momentarily baffled Aleshia.
“Christ knows, woman, my son’s happier than he’s ever been. I have my reservations. But from what I can see, you’re a good person, and you care for your son well. And my son…” Natasha at this point seized a tissue from her tiny handbag and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, I was afraid he would never settle down. Look at him now, eh?”
At this moment, Cameron was leaning down to Ezra’s pram, and pulling daft faces.
“He’ll be a good dad.” Natasha nodded. “I’m happy he’s with you. But, between you and me… give us a few more grandchildren, eh? I want to see my son so swamped that he never thinks about returning to his old life again.”
Aleshia grinned at the older woman. Having been exposed to Vaneese’s audacity her entire life, Natasha gave her little cause for alarm. “We might be able to arrange something like that.”
She detected the hidden message implied in the woman’s words – she wanted a child of her own flesh and blood. Aleshia certainly wasn’t opposed to more children. She did, however, plan to wait until Ezra was at least a year old before lightly putting across the idea to Cameron. Part of her worried that with a new child, Ezra would receive less attention, and feel rejected and lonely. The bigger, more sensible part of her realized that she had nothing to fear.
Even with Amy screeching out how bored she was, and then spending the next three hours drawing Ezra pictures and showing them to him – the wedding went smoothly, no noticeable road bumps in their path.
Consummating the marriage definitely proved entertaining. Although Aleshia’s body reacted strongly to tactile sensations, her body had long since healed up and adapted itself into coping with normal sex, though Cameron enjoyed taking the time out to pleasure her. He liked pampering her body. Seeing her gasp her way to an orgasm often triggered one for him as well. The true joy in the act was bringing your partner happiness. It became something of a competition for them. Cameron even took the time out to record the number of times they both reached orgasm on a tally chart. Stuck on the fridge. Aleshia’s score showed twenty-four times. Cameron’s showed twenty-three.
Tapping her keypad, Aleshia frowned at the dust gathering in the corners of her laptop screen. She wet her finger and tried to wipe the grime off that way, leaving a color spectrum smear.
“Want a beer?” Cameron offered, as he headed to the fridge, Ezra now starting to make small sounds of distress.
“Sure. That Belgian blonde stuff you like.”
“Yup.” He returned with two bottles, clinking them as he sat them on the table. “What’s wrong, little man? Hungry? Bored?” He tapped Ezra on the nose, even as the child began flailing his limbs.
“Uh oh. Put him near the teddy bear. Trust me.” Aleshia reached for the beer as Cameron settled the little boy by the bear. Immediately, Ezra clutched onto the bear’s fur and calmed down, before plucking at the bear like a kneading cat.
“That bear was the best idea we’ve had,” Cameron observed, as they clacked bottles together. “Cheers.”
“I won’t disagree with you on that one.” Her phone buzzed. A text message from Vaneese.
Hey, sista. Come around later? We cooking lasagna.
“We’re going to my sister’s later,” Aleshia declared.
“Oh?” Cameron leaned over to check the message, and sipped his beer. “Yeah. We’re going over later.”
“I need to learn to cook that dish. It’s useful, a
bsolutely freaking delicious –” Aleshia modified her words. She’d been trying to avoid saying fuck since the birth of Ezra, but still let them slip from time to time. “—But I’m fairly certain I’ll create some unparalleled cooking disaster. You saw what happened with the steak.”
“You did well with the macaroni and cheese, though. I like that.” Cameron tried bolstering her feelings.
“I literally just poured the packet into a pan of boiling water, and tossed in some milk and butter because it said so. Nothing complex about that.”
“You added spices.”
“Salt and pepper. And even then, I almost screwed it up. I tipped a whole pot of pepper. On the table. I don’t think cooking is ever going to be one of my talents.”
Cameron chuckled. “Well. Never say never. Maybe you just need to keep at it, and not feel bad when you make mistakes. It should be fine.”
On the wooden floor, Ezra now tried dragging the large teddy behind him, whilst also reaching for another, smaller plush cat. After about a minute, he realized he should probably let go of the teddy and just go for the cat, and began his slow-motion part crawl, part flop again.
Although Aleshia loved Cameron, madly, intensely, to the point where she couldn’t contemplate the future without him – she did find it irritating at times how flippant he acted with matters. She knew he preferred not stressing or worrying over things, but it did result in him shrugging off matters she believed ought to be considered.
She figured in time that might cause a conflict of interest, since she was exactly the type to spend their nights awake, thinking about the things that made her afraid. On the other hand, she did also tend to stress out too much – so perhaps someone like Cameron in her life might mellow out the constant worries and doubts that always threatened.
She’d written a few more poems during the new period of her life. She also inched further to completing that novel she started as a teenager. Two chapters remained, though each time she opened the document, she ended up scrolling over previous chapters and tinkering with sentences and words in them, considering herself lucky if she managed to write anything longer than a paragraph into her last chapters. She didn’t like endings, and never quite figured out how she wanted her novel to finish. Her previous efforts always lacked something.
Now, deep in a relationship with someone she loved and desired, with the stress and amusement of baby-proofing the room so Ezra didn’t try to pick things off the floor and stuff them in his mouth, she realized a different answer to her ending. Tempered by her new experiences in life, the image of it formed in her head, pooling like a dewdrop on a leaf.
It was there. Cameron and Aleshia struck up quiet conversation, needing nothing more than company and presence. Their hands met across the table, and stayed interlocked for a while, though it made drinking the beer awkward.
*****
Over at Vaneese’s house, the lasagna lay in the oven, in the last stage of cooking before everyone devoured it. Vaneese sat next to her sister at the dining table as Dijon and Cameron talked on the sofas, gesturing enthusiastically about their opinions on America’s future. Amy, small, bright eyed, and taking her position as cousin with a gravely air, tried to disengage Ezra’s grabby hands from her hair. He tugged at it, likely because Amy held the same color as the giant teddy bear back home, and the sisters eyed their children, to make sure the playing didn’t escalate into violence and bawling.
“I have one set of good news and two sets of bad news,” Vaneese said, above the noise of the humming oven. “Which would you like to hear first?”
Aleshia examined her sister, who had barely aged since she hit her late twenties. There were extra frown lines on the sides of her mouth, a wrinkle between her eyes more prominent than before, but Vaneese still retained her beauty.
“Bad news. I like it out the way so I can be lifted by the good stuff.”
“Alright, sista. Bad news is this. First, Peter knows.”
Something clamped around Aleshia’s heart, like a trap slamming shut. “Ah, shit,” she managed, though fear coursed a river through her. “How does he?”
Vaneese kept her expression unfathomable as she continued. “Mom told Anna about Cameron, and about Ezra. She didn’t think she was doing anything bad, of course, since Anna was one of your best friends in Plymouth. But, as you know, Anna knows Peter.”
Rubbing her temple, Aleshia closed eyes to think. She remembered Anna had always liked Peter. Another sliver of fear instilled itself. “Oh no. I think I can guess what the second piece of bad news is.”
“You probably can,” Vaneese said, sorrowful. “Peter is dating Anna. People haven’t been seeing much of her recently, so I can only imagine she’s being lured into his web.”
Aleshia felt physically sick. “That fucker. You know he’s doing it to get back at me.”
“Yup. I bet you he thinks if he can bait your friend, you’ll come rushing back, either with jealously or out of concern for Anna. I don’t doubt he enjoyed hearing the news of you being with a new man.”
“I suspected something.” Aleshia recalled the innocuous nature of Anna’s contacts via Facebook and text. “She’s been reaching out to me a lot more often, and I’ve been responding as kind. But she’s also been asking for personal details, which I’ve been kinda reticent on. Because I don’t want her to know anything. God, to think Peter might be putting her up to this…” Aleshia groaned, retracting fingers into fists.
“My biggest concern is that Anna is going to be seriously fucked up. Because Peter is a psychopath. Maybe he can change his spots, maybe he can’t. But until I see evidence to the contrary, he’s not someone you want anyone dating. I can see Amy dating Cameron when she grows up,” Vaneese said.
“What?” Aleshia glanced towards Amy, who was now playing peekaboo with Ezra. He giggled maniacally each time she uncovered her face.
“I can also see her dating someone like Dijon, or someone like our father. Good men. That’s the best way to see it. If you can picture your child grown up, you need to picture what sort of man you’d like them to be with. If Amy dated someone like Peter, I’d be afraid for her life.”
Mulling the implications, Aleshia nodded. “I guess… that makes sense. I’ve just not really thought of it that way. I don’t picture Ezra dating anyone, just when I’m next going to change his diaper or quell his next tantrum.”
Vaneese smiled. “The point is, is that I think we need to try and help Anna at some point. And I think the only way you can help her is by opening up, giving her the information, even if Peter accesses it as well – and try and make her see the truth. Before it’s too late. Because no-one wants to see someone they love in the clutches of someone who will cripple them.”
Now gnawing on the yellowed edges of her knuckles, Aleshia contemplated the idea, as her heart shriveled further. She never wanted to contact or come within poking distance of Peter again. However, someone she knew, someone she had grown up with, now cast her lot with him. Did she leave Anna alone, to make her choices?
It’s my fault. I never told her anything about what he was doing. I was always too scared. I just upped and left, and didn’t talk to anyone. I probably hurt her. And she’s kind. She probably listened to Peter’s sob story. Fuck. “I… I don’t want to think about this right now.”
“Will you help her or not? It’s gonna be a yes or no, Ali.”
She hesitated for a moment, sifting her brain through the awful fact that she couldn’t abandon her friend. She needed to make up for leaving her without a word. “I will. I don’t want to go near him, but I will. Even if she doesn’t listen, I’d feel like a leper if I didn’t try anything. I gotta tell Mom. I’ll have to explain to Cameron.”
“He’ll listen. And Mom is closest. Might be best to ask her if she’d be willing to take in Anna, if Anna smells the danger and tries to get out.”
“Yeah.” Aleshia nodded vigorously. “Yeah, good idea. Ugh.”
“I know. It’s brave of you.” V
aneese hugged her sister, before checking the lasagna, opening the oven door so the smell of cooking, spiced meat with cheese wafted out. “I suppose you want the good news, now.”
“Please. Or I might not be able to stomach your lasagna.” Amy and Ezra both squealed. They were now tugging at a rattle. Cameron flicked a glance to check the commotion, and winked at Aleshia.
“Oh, no. Can’t have that. Alright then. The good news.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve tested pregnant. Dijon doesn’t know yet. I’m thinking of some dramatic way to spring it on him, and I want your help. We gotta drop it on Mom as well.”
Aleshia clasped a palm to her lips, suppressing an excited, unladylike giggle. “Serious?”
“Serious. Looks like Ezra will have a small playmate, and Amy’s going to be up to her eyeballs in younger relatives. You wanted to have more, too?”
“Yeah, but I’ve not dropped the bomb on Cameron, yet. His mother is desperate for me to start churning them out. She played the flesh and blood card.”
Vaneese trilled a laugh. “Oh, that’s just excellent.”
“I’m so happy for you! Ah!” Aleshia crushed her sister in a hug, until Vaneese started making pretend choking noises, and swatted Aleshia’s back.
Both adult women then decided that now was an appropriate time to start jumping up and down, grinning into each other’s faces and squealing.
“This is gonna be amazing! I think maybe you should have like, a treasure hunt that leads to the positive results of the pregnancy test! And, maybe we should have mom on video call so she can watch the whole thing!”
“Let’s list these ideas down! I better go check on the food, but we’re brainstorming tonight, Aleshia!”
Both men stared at the inexplicably hyper women, wearing identical expressions of bemusement.
Bubbling with joy, Aleshia watched her sister pull out the delicious, cheese-frothed lasagna dish. She would need to deal with the ominous shadow of Peter later, and figure out how to signal to her friend the dangers. Anna required help, but without Aleshia seeming intrusive. Aleshia wanted Cameron in on the plan, to understand these new developments.
