by Ni'cola
“What is it? It’s late, Harper. Are you feeling okay?” Aunt Laura’s shrill voice called out from behind the door.
Before I woke up my aunt, I called Ms. Ni’cola first. She urged me to have my aunt take me to the hospital. I knew it was 3 a.m.in Atlanta, but she told me to call her if I needed anything. Since my release from jail, Ms. Ni’cola had been paying for me to ride Ubers to and from my doctor appointments and helped me all the way through this process.
“I – I think I am in labor,” I answered.
Through the door I could hear my shuffling around.
“Are you sure? Give me a minute,” Said my aunt.
I leaned against the wall and took in some deep breaths.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “Ms. Ni’cola told me not to wake you unless my contractions were coming closer together. Right now, they are about four minutes apart. Aunt Laura, I am scared. Can you please call the paramedics?” It didn’t make sense for her to take me to the hospital. With COVID-19 procedures, I knew they wouldn’t even allow my family into the delivery room. “Can you please hold my hand, Aunt Laura?” I asked. “I am so scared.”
I heard her on the phone, giving the 9-1-1 operator our address and my information.
Even though the shutdown had ended, Covid-19 was still real, and everyone was being so careful. I was scared about going to the hospital alone to deliver, but I didn’t want to put my aunt at risk, especially after she had been so kind to me and took me in. A few weeks after moving in with her, I found out that she had lung cancer. She was at a higher risk to complications if she got sick, and I would have gone crazy if I was the cause of anything happening to her.
“Shh, Shh, Shh! You are going to be okay,” Aunt Laura tried to reassure me. She pulled up a chair so I can sit. I took a few deep breaths in and slowly blew out trying to catch my breath.
I knew it sounded crazy, but I wanted my mom. The last time I had spoken to her was the day I was released from Juvie. My aunt was fussing at her on the phone, ripping her a new one!
“This child is getting ready to have a baby,” she had said, “and you don’t have the decency to come and see about her? You are her mother, and she needs you!”
I didn’t know exactly what my mother had said to my aunt, but my Aunt Laura abruptly handed me the phone.
“Hello?” I said meekly into the phone.
“Why the FUCK WOULD YOU TELL AUNT LAURA THAT JAMES WAS YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BABY DADDY?” my mother’s screamed at me. “HE IS ALL THAT WE GOT, HARPER, AND YOU ARE TRYING TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME?”
Over the years, I had listened to my mother scream and holler at me about everything. Nothing I did was good enough. I hated that lady with all my might and loved her at the same damn time. What the hell was wrong with me?
She either took me away from the people that I loved, or she allowed the ones that she loved to do anything to me. When my papa was sick, my mamma and Uncle Carlos came to get me. I was only nine years old when he started running his fingers between the soft spot between my legs while my mother was out working. I remember the first time he did it. “I can’t wait until you are all the way ripe,” he whispered into my ear. “I am going to have so much fun with you.”
I told my mom and she blamed it on me.
“If he did it, it’s because you are frolicking around here being fast,” she said. “Blinking your eyes at him and shit. Don’t fuck this up for me, Harper. He was good to us and took us in. Do not fuck this up for us.”
So, I started staying after school and helping my teachers for as long as I could. I would get home at about 5 p.m., and then I would lock myself in the bathroom, pretending that I was sick. I did this every day until James bought us from Uncle Carlos.
Now, my mother was doing the same thing with James. I was tired of it. I wished she was not my mamma anymore! We were in the middle of a deadly pandemic. Folks were dropping dead like flies, and the only thing she cared about was James.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I listened to this lady scream and holler. Once she stopped, I took a deep breath and said slowly, “You are a terrible mother, and you are dead to me. You will never see me or my baby girl. You are fucking dead to me.”
I threw the phone on the couch and cried, trying to calm down. This was my first pregnancy, and according to Dr. Kenny, I was healthy. I had not had any complications, but I had officially reached the uncomfortable stage of my pregnancy. I have done everything I could do to protect my baby, and once I found out I was having a girl, I promised her that I was never going to be anything like my mamma.
Aunt Laura came over and rubbed my head.
“Shh, shh. Do not cry, child. My sister is turning over in her grave knowing that her daughter is acting like this,” she said. “I used to be so hard on you because I didn’t want you to end up like your mother. Your papa spoiled her and let her get her away with everything. The repercussions from that is biting us all in the butt now.”
That was the first time my aunt had spoken to me without barking. She told me stories about my grandmother, papa, and my mom. I learned more about her and why she was alone. That was the first time I felt that she could really see me. After that, our relationship changed, and I finally found myself happy there with her.
Now, it’s time for me to have this child and the only person that I wanted was my mother. Was that disrespectful to my aunt? To Ms. Ni’cola?
I guess Aunt Laura had read my mind. As she rubbed my head. “It’s okay to love your mom, baby. She is the only mother you have, baby. She is the only mother that you have,” she said, rubbing my head.
We could hear the sirens coming closer. Aunt Laura kissed me on the forehead and got up to open the door.
James
When I thought to myself as I hung up on Christine, fuming from my ears.
She had been doing this shit for a long time, but damn, Harper was only fifteen years old. How long are you going to try to make me her daddy, but you aren’t her mother? Her fucked up thought process and dumb ass tactics were why I didn’t want to be with her. Naw, let me keep it real with myself first. I was only around because I wanted to protect Harper. She looked like my wife was her birth mother, and I wanted to protect her. I remember the night I met Christine. I saw a picture of Harper on her cellphone screensaver. I remember asking her, “Is she yours?”
“Yes, she is my heart,” Christine replied.
How was it possible for a smoked-out person like Christine to produce a doll baby like that? Harper and my wife both possessed the same reddish brown tresses and reddish skin tone. Instantly, I wanted to protect Harper. Yalonda and I had lost so many babies, and I could financially care for all of them, but this person who was selling her ass for money had been blessed with a child?
Just how that seemed crazy, what I did next was even more bonkers. That night, I never slept with Christine. I just talked to her about changing her life. I took her back home to her pimp, asked him the price for both of them, and I paid $2000 for Christine and $3000 for Harper. That fool even had the audacity to try and sell me the baby by herself. He told me how sweet she was going to be. Less than thirty minutes later, I had both of them in my truck, and now, I was literally a surrogate father for both of them!
Christine just called to let me know that Harper was in labor. She was heated that Harper was still accusing me of being the daddy.
I got up off the couch and went to check on my family. They were both fast asleep in the bed. Yalonda was lying on her back while Junior was snuggled up in the crook of her arm.
I wondered what would happen if she found out I was about to have another baby with a child – if she would leave me and take my son.
I felt sorry for Harper, and to add insult to injury, I took that poor baby’s innocence. And I know for a fact that I did because there was blood all over me in the morning.
She had to grow up so fast because her mother was trying to find herself. How I felt about it was plain and simple. If you haven’t
found yourself by now, then damn! You’re never going to. When I got to the house, Harper was in the kitchen, making TikTok videos. Sometimes, I would watch in awe how Harper could just sit on her phone for hours, creating and editing her videos with ease.
I looked around to see if Christine was home. It wasn’t weird for Harper to be home for hours, but it was unusual for Christine not to be blowing up my phone. She made it so difficult to keep up this façade I was playing to balance her place and home. I was getting tired of having to constantly lie about being out of town on business trips every week. It felt like I was supposed to be out of town every week.
I picked up the phone and called her. It only rang once and went straight to voicemail.
“Hey babe. Where are you?” I asked. “I am going to chill here with Harper until you get back. Wanted to drop off some money to you.”
Christine entered the house, struggling, as I pushed the end button on my phone.
“I brought dinner,” she said, smiling. She was carrying several McDonald’s bags.
I rolled my eyes and sat down on the couch. Christine thought she was slick, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with this so easily. I was not in the mood to talk. I was too frustrated and wanted to stop having a double life. Part of me wanted to say, “Fuck it,” and take Harper home with me. The crazy thing is how well Harper’s temperament and physical looks blended with my real family. Maybe God brought me into this situation for just that.
“Christine. I can’t keep doing this with you,” I said, trying to pick a fight. I didn’t want to stay long, and I hoped a fight would do me some justice.
“You can’t keep doing what with me?” Christine asked, flipping that ponytail of hers and plopping down onto the couch. “Harper! Go run and get my weed box. I had a long day and coming home to all this fussing is giving me a headache. I need to roll up!”
Harper got up and slammed her phone down on the table. She hated being disturbed while she filming on that phone.
“Girl! Do you have an attitude?” Christine asked.
I don’t know why or how Harper got under Christina’s skin the way that she did. It seemed like she got pleasure out of yelling and fighting with her daughter. “Fuck that phone! I just pawned my iPad to pay the phone bill, and that is how you are gonna act when I tell you to do something?” she yelled. Christina rushed into the kitchen and got into Harper’s face.
Harper crossed her arms in front of her body and didn’t respond. She glared back at her, looking her square in the eyes. It was as if she was silently letting her know that she was not afraid of her.
The two women stood there for a few seconds staring each other down before Christine pushed Harper into the wall.
“What? You want to hit me, Harper? You think you bad and want to hit me? I will fuck you up! Do you hear me? I don’t have to deal with this. I can send your red ass up out of here. Hit me, Harper. I dare you!”
Christine was screaming at the top of lungs. Her face turned beet red.
Harper just glared at her, not speaking. She pushed past Christine and stomped up the stairs, slamming the door to her room. As mad as her mother made her, Harper never responded to the madness verbally, but her silent responses were powerful statement pieces.
I don’t know if Christina was madder at Harper’s slamming or if it was because the young girl was unfazed by her antics, but Christine was pissed.
I have witnessed Christine slapping Harper, pushing her, and punching her over little to nothing. Everything that child did was a trigger for Christine. According to her, Harper was the worst kid alive. She would bellow that from the mountain tops, letting anyone who would listen know how horrible her daughter was. She even warned me to be careful around Harper because she liked lying on men, saying they touched her.
What kind of mother says things like that?
That the reason why I put up with Christine is because I needed to be around to protect Harper as much as I could.
I could see the rage built up in Christine’s face as she was about to chase after Harper. I wanted to snap, but instead, I did something totally different than what I usually do. I am still live with the regret of that decision today.
“Christine, go get the weed and let’s smoke,” I said.
When I said those words, her mood instantly changed. I had never smoked weed with her before. Hell, I never smoke. I wasn’t that dude, but I needed to do something to change the mood in that house.
Like a kid in a candy store, Christine’s frown instantly turned into a smile. She hurried up and grabbed the box off of the top of the refrigerator. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hamburger from the bag. I hoped that if I ate something, it would ease the intensity of the high.
Christine sat at the table, watching my every move. She had never seen me high before and probably didn’t know what to do next. I did get Christine off of crystal meth, but I did compromise with her by allowing her to make weed her drug of choice. I hated drugs, but I think if popped one of the edibles, I should be okay.
“What kind of gummies do you have?” I asked, taking a bite into my burger.
Christine rummaged through her precious box and carefully pulled out a pack of gummies.
“Well, I was planning on rolling up, but since you are a new bootie, we can do edibles. Here, try this one,” she responded.
I eyed the candy apprehensively. If this was going to keep her calm, then so be it.
Thank you,” I said and popped the candy into my mouth.
At least it tastes good, I thought to myself.
Christine was so excited. She grinned from ear-to-ear. “See! It is not that bad,” she said, popping a handful into her mouth. After a while, the floodgates of her mouth opened, and she started talking my ear off about everything.
I finished my burger and grabbed another gummy out of the bag.
“Harper, are you hungry?” I called out, but she didn’t respond. Whenever they got into it like that, Harper usually disappeared and did not come back out. I hated this cycle, but what could I do? She was not my real daughter, but damn, I wished she was.
“Fuck Harper with her smart-ass mouth!” said Christine. “She thinks she’s so grown, she can feed her damn self!”
Instantly frustrated, I popped two more edibles into my mouth.
Hell, this wasn’t that bad, I thought to myself. I could have done this a long time ago. I ate a few more and tuned Christine out.
The room began to spin and my head started to hurt. Instantly, I was exhausted. I stood up, checking the time on my phone.
8:34! Oh my God! I was supposed to be home hours ago! I had four missed calls from Yolanda. I needed to take my ass home and try to sleep this shit off.
Standing up, I felt my knees wobble beneath me. I couldn’t drive like this. Even though the couch was uncomfortable, I needed to lay down for a minute before I tried to go home.
“Come get into the bed!” Christine whined.
I would have preferred the bed, but at that moment, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make it.
“I- I am so-sorry, babe,” I told her. “I got to go to work in the morning.” “Let me just lay down real quick, and I have to go. But here.” I pulled the money out of my pocket.
Seeing the money changed her pouty mood. She kissed me on the cheek and grabbed the money.
When she retreated the bedroom, I closed my eyes. I tried to mentally settle the queasy in my stomach. I took in a few deep breaths and everything suddenly went black.
When I heard the buttons of the microwave beep, I opened my eyes.
“Babe, what are you eating?” I asked when I saw my wife whisk past me.
No response.
“Pretty girl, come here,” I called out.
My head felt like it was going to explode and I struggled to get up. I knew I had been fucking up lately and needed to get my shit together before I lost my family.
Holding onto the wall, I stumbled into the kitchen.
Yolanda continued to ignore me. She stood at the microwave, reading something on her phone. I loved when she let her tresses flow, hanging down to almost her waist. The closer I got to her, I could smell the scent of shea butter. That clean scent turned me on so much that I even bought some for Christine to use when she got out of the shower.
I leaned in and wrapped my arms around her from behind, kissing the top of her head. Yolanda tensed up and didn’t move.
“Baby, I am so sorry,” I said. “I know I have been fucking up lately. Please forgive me. I am going to stop working so much. Please.” I kissed the back of her neck and ran my hands down her hips.
She didn’t say a word and still didn’t move. Whenever she got upset, making love to her always changed her mood. She liked it when I took it, fucking her from behind.
I pulled my johnson out. I kneeled down and rubbed it against her ass. In one swift motion, I moved her panties to the side. I didn’t give her an opportunity to say no. When I pushed myself into her, the more she tried to pull away from me, the more I took it.
I felt like I was moving in slow motion, but it went fairly quickly. She felt so tight and good, and she was so wet when I felt the precum release. “Damn baby, you feel so damn good!” Exclaimed. Still, Yolanda didn’t say anything.
She loved it when I choked her, so I wrapped my hands around her neck. Still Yolanda didn’t respond verbally.
Fuck, she is mad for real! I thought, but she hadn’t told me to stop, so I kept going.
I continued to penetrate her until I felt myself release. It wasn’t until I pulled out that I realized the amount of blood down there.
“Baby, you’re bleed –” I started and froze in my tracks. It wasn’t until then that I noticed how badly she was shaking.
When I was trying to pull my pants up, Yalonda finally said something.
W – wh – why did you do this to me?” she asked. “I thought you were different and loved me, like a daughter.” It was Harper.