Jean loved Stewart. And she believed that he loved her. He was just a weak man. Something she came to realize early into their marriage. Stewart could not resist the flesh of other women. Jean thought of leaving him once, but that thought quickly disappeared. She’d made a vow before God and for better or worse, she would stand by that vow, no matter how painful and embarrassing his extramarital affairs—affairs that most everyone knew about—had been to endure. Besides, they had children, and there’d been enough loud whispering behind her back about Stewart. The last thing she wanted to have to deal with was people talking about her leaving her husband as well.
So Jean endured.
For years.
But things were different now.
“Everything is fine, Stewart,” she said easily.
“You’re crying.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Jean opened her mouth. She wanted to tell him that she’d been crying because of everything he’d put her through. That his weakness for the flesh affected not only her spirit, but the spirits of their children as well. She wanted to tell him that she was dying. Instead she lay on her side and said, “I have a headache, Stewart. I’m going to lie down for a while.”
“Do you want me to get you anything?”
Jean shook her head. “No.”
Stewart nodded, and then said, “I’m going to step out for a while. Mrs. Carter called me earlier. She needs counseling about her daughter. I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
Jean nodded. “OK.”
“Do you want me to get anything while I’m out?”
“No.”
“OK.” Stewart turned and headed to the door, but paused before leaving the room. “Jean?”
“Yes Stewart?”
“What’s the significance of this dinner you’re planning?”
“It’s my birthday, Stewart. People celebrate birthdays this way.”
“I understand that, Jean. I just can’t help but wonder why this particular birthday? It’s not as though you’re celebrating your fiftieth.”
“Do I need a specific number to celebrate?”
“No. But you’ve never been one for a party.”
Jean looked over her shoulder at her husband. “It’s just time for a change, Stewart. I wanted this birthday to reflect that.”
“What do you mean by ‘it’s time for a change’?”
Jean sighed softly. Soon, she thought. Soon you’ll know. “Tell Carla I said hello, Stewart. I’m going to take a nap now.”
Stewart nodded and without saying another word, walked out of the room.
As he did, tears ran down from the corners of Jean’s eyes, to the pillow beneath her. Soon, she thought again.
Soon.
7
Bryce parked his car and ran his hand through his hair and flared his nostrils while exhaling heavily. It had been a rough day. All day long, thoughts of Nicole and her possible pregnancy had run through his mind and consumed him so much that he had barely gotten anything done. He sat in his office, and for the most part, stared at a picture of him and Monica sitting on his desk. The picture had been taken in the Bahamas. They were there the previous summer for a week-long vacation. It was one of the best times they’d ever had. Fun, sun, and a lot of sex.
Pregnant.
Bryce tried to keep the thoughts out of his mind when he went by Monica’s after work. She wanted to celebrate. The Redskins’ owner agreed that his team and McMillan and Weber were a perfect fit. With glasses of champagne sitting beside them, Monica and Bryce relaxed in the bathtub. The mood had been romantic. Teddy Pendergrass’s hit “Come and Go with Me” sighed softly from the stereo in the living room. Sweet aroma from vanilla scented candles, lit and sitting around the edges of the tub, filled the air. Monica was wet, and it hadn’t been just from the water in the tub. She was feeling good and she wanted her man. She always did. She loved to feel his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Especially when they made love in the tub, as they had done many times before.
As Teddy crooned, Monica laid her head back against Bryce’s chest and moaned seductively, letting him know what type of mood she was in. On any other night, Bryce would have taken control of the situation, entered his woman, and passionately given her a real reason to moan. But Bryce didn’t react. He couldn’t. Instead, he sat silent, with Monica leaning back in-between his legs, unable to produce the necessary blood flow required to please his woman.
Nicole was pregnant.
So she said.
If it was true, what the hell was he going to do?
That’s what Bryce was wondering while Monica stroked him, trying without success to get a rise out of him.
“Bryce, is something wrong?”
Bryce hadn’t answered right away. Monica asked again. “Bryce ... what’s wrong?” Frustration had been laced in her tone.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he finally said.
“Then why are you not saying a word, and why the hell aren’t you getting hard?”
Bryce sighed and ran his hand through his hair. As hard as he tried, he just couldn’t get Nicole off of his mind. He stood up and grabbed a towel. “I’m sorry baby,” he said, stepping out of the tub, leaving Monica stunned. “I need to get going.”
“Going? What do you mean you need to get going? Bryce, what the hell is wrong with you? And don’t tell me ‘nothing’ again.”
Bryce slipped into his boxers and avoided looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. For real. I just have a lot of shit on my mind. Work-related things. I need to go home and do some thinking ... come up with some ideas.”
“What the—? You’re kidding right?”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Don’t give me that ‘baby’ bullshit! This is supposed to be my goddamned night! Remember?”
“I know Monica. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Bryce ... I swear you better not leave me like this.”
“I’m sorry Monica. I really need to sort some things out.”
“So what ... you can’t talk to me?”
“Not tonight.”
“Not tonight? Goddamn it, Bryce. This shit can’t be happening. You can’t be doing this to me. Not tonight!”
“I’m sorry,” Bryce said again.
As he walked out of the bathroom and went into the bedroom to get dressed, Monica screamed out, “Fuck you, Bryce!”
Slipping into a pair of jeans, Bryce clenched his jaws and cursed himself. He hated doing that to her, but he had no choice. He had to leave. Frustration and self-disappointment wouldn’t allow for him to be there physically or mentally for his woman. He needed someone to talk to. But who?
It hadn’t been a conscious decision to go to his brother’s house, but twenty minutes later, that’s where he ended up. He parked in his brother’s driveway, got out of the car, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell.
“You forget how to use a phone?” Nate said, opening the door.
Bryce frowned. “I’m sorry, man ... but I need to talk.”
Nate looked at him and then opened the door wide. “Come on in.”
“Damn, Bryce. Why the hell would you go and do something like that? Monica is a hell of a woman.”
Sitting forward on his brother’s couch, Bryce kept his eyes focused on a stain in his brother’s carpeting. He didn’t want to see the disappointment plastered on his brother’s face. He’d been beating himself up enough as it was already. “I didn’t plan for it to happen, man. It just did, and it got out of hand.”
“I’d say so,” Nate snapped. “Damn, man. Were you really that weak?”
“Don’t come at me with your righteous shit, man. I really don’t need to hear it right now. I’m not perfect like you are, all right?”
Nate clenched his jaws and shook his head. “Damn, Bryce. I mean you couldn’t just hit it once and keep it moving? Your dick had to fall into her lap over and over again?”
“I to
ld you man, I didn’t mean to get caught up like that.”
“So what ... you just couldn’t control yourself? What ... did she have your ass under a spell?”
Bryce sighed. He wanted to say yes—that Nicole had indeed cast a spell over him with her extra-short miniskirts, too-long and too-fine legs, tops she wore revealing more than enough cleavage, sexy side glances, and message-laden stares. Yes, Nicole had been a temptress. A witch who used her magical powers and wrapped her hands around him until he complied with her every wish, until he could no longer deny the fact that he wanted to palm her round ass, lift that skirt and go diving. That’s what Bryce wanted to say.
Instead, a weak and mumbled, “She was attractive, Nate,” is all that came out.
“I don’t care how attractive she was,” Nate said, louder than he intended. He quickly lowered his voice. He didn’t want to wake Felicia or the kids. “Man ... you fucked up! Royally. Don’t you remember what that corny song said? Never trust a big butt and a smile. Poison, man. With her looks and her smile, Nicole poisoned you and now she’s calling you her baby daddy.”
Bryce slumped back into the couch. “I know.”
Nate sat down beside him. “You know, huh? Man, what the fuck were you thinking? Monica is a bad ass woman. She’s successful, she’s independent, and she loves your ass to death.”
“Yes ... she is,” Felicia said, stepping into the living room. Bryce and Nate turned around.
“Baby,” Nate said quickly. “I didn’t know you were up. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Felicia yawned and joined the two brothers on the couch, taking her place beside her husband. But her eyes remained on Bryce, making him wonder how much of the conversation she’d heard. “You didn’t wake me. I was up when you went to answer the door. Bryce ... how could you?”
Bryce looked down to the carpet again.
“How could you go and be like every other man? I’m truly disappointed in you.”
Bryce looked at his sister-in-law. Her lips were pressed firmly together to form a straight line, and darts flew from her eyes. As if his guilt and Nate’s chastisement weren’t bad enough, he now had to deal with Felicia. He kept his mouth closed. He wasn’t in the mood to go head-to-head with a woman, especially over this topic. Unfortunately for him, Felicia didn’t feel the same way.
“Men like you make me sick, Bryce. All that complaining you men do about not being able to find a good woman who appreciates, loves, and respects you is just a waste of breath. Because the minute you find the woman you’ve been wanting, what do you do? Go and screw around. Three years, Bryce. You’ve been with Monica for three years. You just had to have your cake and eat it too?”
Bryce looked to his brother hoping he would say something in his defense, but instead of speaking, Nate quietly rose from the couch and excused himself into the kitchen, leaving Bryce alone to burn under Felicia’s heated gaze. Thanks bro, Bryce thought as he fixed his attention back on his sister-in-law.
“Look Felicia, I know what I did was wrong, but you beating me up is not what I need right now.”
“Not what you need?” Felicia asked, stiffening her neck. Instantly, Bryce regretted his comment. “Just what the hell do you need, Bryce? Nicole’s baby? Will that work for you? Excuse me for not feeling sorry for you, but you brought this all on yourself. Haven’t you ever heard of protection? I mean, if you’re going to be out there hoeing around, the least you could do is protect yourself. Is that how much you love Monica? Shit, you better be glad a baby is all you may end up with.” Felicia pursed her lips, folded her arms across her chest, and gave him a scalding look. “I never expected this from you.”
Bryce sighed and dragged his hands down over his face. Felicia was right and he had been so wrong. Just then, Nate came back into the living room with three glasses of juice. He gave Felicia hers, along with a kiss, and as he gave a glass to Bryce, he said, “She’s right, man. You’re lucky you didn’t end up with an STD or worse.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Bryce mumbled. “Look guys, I didn’t come here proud of what I did and expecting either one of you to be sympathetic towards me. I just need some advice. I don’t know what the hell to do right now.” Bryce lowered his head and watched the ice cubes in his glass, and mulled over how he felt just like one of the cubes, melting under Nate and Felicia’s glares.
Felicia took a sip of her grape juice and took her brother-in-law’s hand.
Bryce looked at her. He could tell by her eyes what she was wondering. “Nicole was the only one,” he said.
Felicia nodded. “Do you love Monica?” she asked.
“Of course I do. You guys know that.”
“Then if you love her, you’re going to have to tell her.”
Bryce pulled his hand away and stood up. “Tell her? Come on, if I do that, I’ll lose her.”
“Maybe ... maybe not,” Nate said. “She’ll be mad and hurt yes, but just maybe, she’ll be able to forgive you.”
Bryce looked down at his brother. “There is no way in hell Monica would give me a second chance. She doesn’t play that shit. The minute I tell her, our relationship will be finished.”
“Well, Bryce,” Felicia said softly. “As harsh as this may sound, you did the dirt. No one else. So this is your mess to clean up.”
“But I don’t want to lose her,” Bryce said weakly.
“You have to tell her, man.”
“But I don’t even know if this baby is mine.”
Felicia put her glass down on the coffee table, stood up, and put her hands on her hips. “Listen, Bryce ... you can’t keep this from Monica.”
“Why not? At least until the baby comes and I can take a paternity test. Why should I tell her now? Especially if it turns out it’s not mine.”
“Little brother, look at what happened tonight, man. You’re so stressed out over this shit that you couldn’t even chill and relax with your woman. If you’re trippin’ now, how the hell do you expect to hold shit together until the baby comes?”
“I don’t know. Shit! I’ll manage.”
“Bryce ... Monica has a right to know,” Felicia said. “Trust me, from a woman’s perspective it’s better if she knew now. Because if it turns out this baby is yours and you don’t tell her until after it’s born, you’ll be putting a nail in the coffin of your relationship for sure. There’s no way Monica would forgive you for keeping this from her. Hell, I don’t know many women who would. Tell her, Bryce. Tell her, and hope by some miracle that after she’s calmed down, she may be willing to talk to you and possibly give you another chance.”
“But ...”
“No buts,” Felicia said, cutting him off. “You brought this on yourself. Now if you say you love Monica, then you’ll tell her. Tell her, and hope that she loves you enough to forgive you and somehow go forward. Whatever you do, don’t wait until that baby comes.” Without another word, Felicia turned, gave her husband a kiss, and headed toward the bedroom.
Bryce sat back down on the couch and without looking at his older brother, said, “I don’t want to lose her, man.”
Nate placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and stood up. “It really wouldn’t be your choice, man. You know where the blankets and extra pillows are if you’re staying. If not, make sure you lock the bottom lock on the door. I have to get up for work in the morning.”
Nate headed toward the bedroom and his wife.
Back on the couch, Bryce finished his juice and exhaled. Tell Monica? How could he? He stood up and grabbed his car keys. As he drove home, he cursed Nicole, and more importantly, himself for ever playing with fire.
What the hell was he going to do?
8
Alex buttoned his shirt, slipped on his tie, and grabbed his laptop. He had to leave in fifteen minutes. He didn’t like having to work the third shift in IT support. He wasn’t comfortable leaving Karen alone at night. Although she could hold her own, Alex had been thinking about purchasing a dog. Nothing too fierce. Maybe a Doberma
n or a German shepherd. Something to make people think twice about walking through the door. Even though they lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, he never allowed himself to be so comfortable that he would let his guard down, because tragedy always happened when you became complacent and thought that all was right with the world. He knew better. And because the company was going through a strange transitional period, his night shift duties were going to be around for a while.
He knew Karen wasn’t too fond of pets, so getting her to agree to the addition wasn’t going to be easy. But Alex felt it was necessary. He would go to the pound tomorrow to look for one. If he could get some sleep, because he hadn’t slept a wink all day. He’d tried, but it just didn’t happen.
He had Mariah to thank for that.
It had been eight o’clock in the morning when she’d called. Alex had only been sleeping for two hours since coming in from work, and Karen had already gone to the television studio. With his eyes burning and demanding to be kept closed, Alex picked up the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Alex, it’s Mariah. There’s a problem.”
Immediately Alex’s thoughts went to his son. His eyes popped open. “Is Miguel okay? What happened?”
Mariah huffed on the other end. “No!” she snapped.
“What’s wrong with him?” Alex asked, his heart beating heavily.
“What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with him? I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him.”
Alex could tell by her tone that Miguel was okay and Mariah was about to try his patience again.
“What’s wrong with my son is that wife of yours.”
“Karen?”
“Yes, Karen. That damn bitch has Miguel comparing everything I do or say to her.”
“Mariah, you’re not making any sense.”
“I can’t do shit without Miguel saying ‘Karen doesn’t do it like that.’ ‘You don’t cook like Karen.’ ‘Why don’t you act like Karen?’ ‘Karen doesn’t watch that.’ On and on, I have to listen to that shit!”
Alex couldn’t help but laugh.
If It Isn't Love Page 5