“I’m going up there to defend you!”
“The nurse was asking me all kinds of questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like whether or not I’m sexually active, and when’s the last time I had my period…stuff like that.”
“Is that bitch crazy? What she tryna insinuate, that you’re pregnant or something?”
Harlow shrugged, and then looked down guiltily at the floor.
“You better not be pregnant! There’s no way you could be carrying a damn baby at eleven years old.” Jody reached out and gripped Harlow’s chin. Staring directly in her daughter’s face, she hissed, “I taught you how to take care of yourself. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
Harlow swallowed. She blinked her eyes, and opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. “Uh…” she managed to say.
“Talk to me, girl. Did Skeeter pull out like he was supposed to?”
“Not all the time,” Harlow said miserably.
“Damn! Why’d you let him shoot his load up inside you? I told both of y’all that you had to be careful.”
“I tried to make him, but he won’t listen to me. You were getting high and—”
“Oh, now it’s my fault!” Jody twisted her face in anger. “Let me tell you something, you little bitch, if you let Skeeter knock you up, you better not be pointing your goddamn finger at me.”
Harlow kept her mouth closed. Jody scared Harlow when she was mad; especially when she was mad and acting jumpy. Harlow inched away from her mother. She’d come to associate jerky movements with violence. Jody had a tendency to slap her face or knock her upside her head for no reason at all whenever she was feening.
“Answer me. Is it my fault?”
“No.” Harlow didn’t blame her mother; she blamed Skeeter. Jody had warned her that she’d get pregnant if Skeeter didn’t pull out. Now there was the possibility that she could have a baby in her stomach. Harlow felt both excited and terrified by the possibility.
“I taught you right. I know I did. I did everything I could to keep this from happening,” Jody said bitterly. “But you wanna know what’s really burning me up?”
Harlow shrugged.
“I don’t understand why I had to hear this mess from the school nurse? You should have been told me that Skeeter wasn’t handling his business right. Shit, if you had pulled my coat, I could have got you the morning after pill, took care of the situation before it got out of hand.”
Harlow wanted to ask Jody what a morning after pill was, but was afraid the question might rile her mother.
Harlow raised her head. “I’m sorry, Jody. I was scared to tell you. I knew you were gonna get mad at me.”
Jody looked at her daughter with disdain. “You’re hard-headed. Now it’s on me.” She pointed at herself. “If I don’t take care of this shit, I’m gonna end up looking like an unfit mother. All you had to do was follow my goddamn instructions!” Jody yelled.
“He told me to keep it a secret. I didn’t want Skeeter to get mad at me, either.”
“Oh, really? You more worried about how Skeeter feels than your own mother?” Seething, Jody rolled her eyes and then popped two more pills. “Skeeter’s locked up for twenty-six months, leaving me to deal with this mess by myself. When was your last period?” Jody snapped, glaring at her daughter.
Feeling a mixture of fear, guilt, and shame, Harlow responded in a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? When was the last time you were on the rag?” Jody started pacing and rubbing her arm. “I have enough problems, Harlow. I swear to God, I don’t need this shit right now! What about your titties?”
Harlow grimaced and folded her arms across her chest. “What about ’em?”
“Are they sore? Are they getting bigger?” Fury rose in Jody’s voice.
“No!”
“If you’re pregnant, I need to know how far along are you? Let’s see, when did Skeeter get popped?” Jody mumbled to herself. She stared into space for a while. She finally broke out of her daze. “Skeeter’s been locked up for a couple of months; that means you have to be at least two months pregnant—maybe more. How long have you been getting dizzy?”
“About two weeks.”
“Why didn’t you come to me? Why does the school nurse have to be involved in our private business?” Jody said harshly.
“I don’t know,” Harlow said absently, her thoughts focused on the terrifying occasions when she’d gotten dizzy. She didn’t know what was happening to her. The first time, she’d been on her way to the corner store. All of a sudden she felt woozy, afraid that she’d end up on the ground if she took another step; she leaned against a parked car, and waited until the dizziness stopped. It happened a few days later, during math class. This time she’d placed her head on her desk, but that worsened the sensation. Her desk seemed to whirl around like a carnival ride. Finally, she asked her teacher for a hall pass. Miraculously, she’d made to the girl’s bathroom without fainting. Once inside, she’d lain on the floor, thinking it best to lie down before she fell down.
“Stop shrugging your shoulders. You gotta have some kind of answer for why you didn’t come to me about this dizziness.”
“I was scared. I thought I had a brain tumor. I thought I was dying.”
“I wish you did have a brain tumor. Medical Assistance would pay to have that removed. But a pregnancy…” Jody shook her head. “They don’t pay for an abortion, to remove babies.”
Harlow didn’t like the sound of the word “abortion” or the thought of having a baby removed. It sounded cruel and painful.
“Ain’t no point in me racking my brain trying to figure this mess out. I guess I have to go spend my last little bit of money on a goddamn pregnancy test. If you’re knocked up, I don’t know where I’m gonna get the money for an abortion.”
Jody threw on her jacket and slammed the door behind her.
Harlow had expected her life to get better after Skeeter had gotten locked up. It seemed that way at first. For the first time since she was a tiny girl, she’d been able to sleep through the night without rough hands pulling off the covers and tugging on her pajamas.
Other than the times she worried about the tumor in her head, she’d finally started feeling content, like she’d been given a new lease on life.
But not anymore. Now she had a new problem to worry about: pregnancy.
Jody had said that baby had to be removed. That made Harlow sad. She imagined a baby that was so small, it could fit inside of her cupped hand. What would happen to the poor little baby after it was taken out of her stomach?
Harlow closed her eyes and squeezed out burning tears.
CHAPTER 26
Like a leper, Nivea had been banished from her parents’ home. Tears streamed down her face as she drove at a snail’s pace. She wanted to talk to someone—not a psychiatrist as her mother had suggested; she needed a heart-to-heart with her best friend. Vangie was sensible, a good listener, and most of all, a forgiving person. Admittedly, lashing out at Vangie for getting back with Shawn was completely irrational. After all the nonsense she’d taken from Eric, she didn’t have the right to judge Vangie or anyone else.
Vangie deserved an apology. She rifled through her handbag, searching for her cell. She stared at traffic through a veil of tears, sniffling as her hand groped around her wallet, makeup bag, sunglasses, mints…everything except her phone. Oh, damn! She’d left it on a side table after sending Vangie that boastful image of her parents’ luxurious Christmas tree.
When Nivea got home, she picked up the phone in the kitchen, intending to call Vangie and apologize. She noticed a half-filled bottle of vodka in a corner of the granite counter. Instead of calling Vangie, she returned the phone to its base. The vodka was calling her.
Nivea had always been a social drinker, never one to indulge in drinking in solitude. But after the shock of Eric’s indiscretion and after being assaulted by that chicken head, Dyeesha, vodk
a had become a silent companion. Its medicinal properties instantly numbed her pain.
An hour later she cracked open a fresh bottle and sat in her bedroom having a private party—drinking, arguing, crying, laughing, and singing in the dark.
The phone blared in the middle of an argument she was having with herself. She sleepily lifted her head and squinted at the caller ID. Private Caller. You can kiss my ass, private damn caller! The ringing stopped and then began again. This time the caller ID spelled Nivea’s name. Is this a prank? The next episode of ringing identified her mother as the caller. Fuck you! Defiantly, Nivea gave the phone her middle finger, and then turned the bottle up to her lips. The phone rang without cessation. She glared at it. Leave a fuckin’ message, bitch!
As if she possessed psychic abilities, her mother’s voice filled Nivea’s bedroom. “Nivea! Your sister is outside your house. She has your BlackBerry.”
Oh, yeah! I forgot about my phone. Delighted to have her cell returned, she quickly staggered to the living room. The sash of her robe had loosened; the gaping front revealed her breasts. Too smashed to care about her appearance, and somewhat delighted to have an opportunity to offend her sister, Nivea swung the front door open. Her nipples peeked out, tightening into corkscrews when hit by the frigid air.
At first Nivea’s vision seemed out of focus. It wasn’t Courtney outside her door. Her argyle-sweater-wearing fiancé stood under the porch light, his preppy sweater covered by a heavy jacket.
Shocked, Knox took an audible breath and then immediately tore his eyes away from Nivea’s bare breasts. Trying to give Nivea her dignity, he fixed his gaze on the mailbox, then the doormat, and then the wreath on her neighbor’s door. His gaze finally settled on the BlackBerry in his hand. “Sorry to wake you,” he mumbled, keeping his focus on the phone.
His discomfort amused Nivea. Emboldened by alcohol and feeling devilishly wanton, she giggled and ran a finger down her cleavage. From her peripheral vision, she could see Courtney waving at her from the passenger seat of the car. She regarded her sister with irritation, gave a curt wave, and then returned her attention to Knox. She moistened her lips.
Knox wouldn’t look at her. “Courtney…she wanted…” Flustered, he gave up trying to be articulate and abruptly stuck the cell in Nivea’s hand.
“Thanks,” she said, wearing a lopsided, drunken smile.
“You’re welcome. Uh…goodnight.” He started backing up.
“Wait! How much do I owe you? I’ll go get my wallet.” Nivea’s words were slurred.
Knox scowled. “You don’t owe me anything.” He sounded appalled.
“But I have to give you something.” She leaned lazily against the doorframe, posing and smiling crookedly. She placed a clumsy hand on her hip. She’d never been much of a flirt, but with the vodka coursing through her system, she felt like the queen of seduction.
Warmed by liquor, Nivea was unfazed by the gust of wind that lifted the front of her short robe, revealing her private area.
Knox lowered his head and respectfully looked down at his boots. “H-have a good night,” he said shakily. He looked up at her with fear, like he was facing a she-devil. Anxiously, he looked over his shoulder at his car, feet moving like he was ready to bolt.
“Why do you have to go? What’s the problem? Don’t you like the view?” Nivea patted her crotch and giggled. She was having a drunken good time at Knox’s expense.
Courtney honked the horn twice.
“Wait a minute!” Nivea barked, frowning in the direction of the idling car. Then she regarded Knox, her lips curled scornfully. “Your future wife is impatient. Bossy. Just like her mother.”
Knox straightened his shoulders, a gesture that rejected the notion that he’d ever become a henpecked man. Standing tall, he gave Nivea a pitying look. “Cover yourself up.” He nodded toward her open door. “Go inside before you get sick.” He turned around and walked briskly toward the car.
Did I ask you for your medical advice? Punk-ass. She slammed the door and rejoined her liquid lover.
CHAPTER 27
1995
Jody returned home late at night with her get-high buddy, Ronica. They both wore tense expressions, which made Harlow more jumpy and uneasy than usual.
Ronica came close and looked at Harlow. She shook her head. “You’re only eleven years old. Do you realize you could get taken away from your mother over this?”
“Talking to her is not gonna do a damn bit of good,” Jody said with a sneer. “Miss Fresh Pot acts like she don’t even care.”
“I care,” Harlow said, ducking her head down. Her shame was tremendous, and she was having a hard time looking her mother in the eye.
“Don’t seem like you give a damn to me. I took my time teaching you how to take care of yourself, and for what? Just to hear myself talk?” Jody shoved the pregnancy kit in Ronica’s hands. “Take her in the bathroom, and give her the test. I’m feeling stressed, girl. I can’t deal with it.” She shook out more pills to calm her nerves.
Inside the bathroom, Harlow braced herself for the pregnancy test. She was expecting the pregnancy test to require a needle in her stomach or a thermometer in her vagina. She didn’t have the foggiest idea of how the test was conducted.
“You gotta pee,” Ronica said absently as she opened the box.
“Huh?”
“You gotta piss on the stick. That’s how you take the test.”
Harlow did as Ronica instructed. Minutes later, Ronica shrieked as though gleeful. Excitedly, she opened the bathroom door, and rushed out with the stick in her hand. “Look at this shit, Jody. It’s positive. You’re about to become a twenty-nine-year-old grandmother,” Ronica said, laughing.
“The hell if I am,” Jody hissed. Jody gave a hateful glare. “This lil’ tramp is out to get me. But I’m not going for it.”
“You’re high off those pain killers, and now you’re talking a bunch of mess,” Ronica said. “Harlow ain’t nothing but a child. How is a little girl out to get you? You’re the one who allowed Skeeter to mess with her.”
Jody twisted her neck around. “Whatchu tryna say, Ronica! You blaming me for her condition?”
“Well, you sound stupid, blaming Harlow for something you had her doing.”
“I was looking out for her. Hmph! I’d rather my daughter make something off her poontang than to just give it away.”
“All what you saying would make sense if Harlow actually got something out of it. But you can’t bullshit me. You had Harlow hustling for you. If you gon’ be mad at somebody, then you need to be mad at yourself and Skeeter.”
“Skeeter’s doing a bid. I won’t be seeing his ass for a couple of years.”
“Then you need to go see his main man, Thad. If you tell Thad what Skeeter did, I bet you could get some hush money to pay for an abortion. Thad would want to protect his man from some child molestation charges. You should check on that, Jody. Find out how much he’s willing to pay for you to keep quiet.”
“You crazy! Talking all out the side of your neck, Ronica. Do I look stupid? If go to Thad on some hush money shit, he’ll shut my mouth forever. Me and Harlow will both end up tossed in the river with cement blocks tied to our feet.”
Harlow shot her mother a look of horror. Tossed in the river with cement blocks on our feet? She didn’t quite get the meaning, but it sounded deadly.
Jody stared at Harlow. “Thad’s a spiteful motherfucker. Don’t open your mouth about your situation to nobody. Do you understand me, girl?”
“Yes,” Harlow said meekly.
Ronica shook her head. “Thad’s man got your daughter knocked up, and it seems to me that Thad should make it right. He should step up to the plate and give you the money you need. Abortions ain’t cheap.”
“How much they cost now?” Jody asked, frowning. “I ain’t had no abortion since before Harlow was born.”
Ronica eyed Harlow as if tallying up the cost. “Young as she is, they’d probably have to put her to sleep.
That costs a lot more than getting it done while you’re awake.”
“How much more?”
Ronica shrugged. “I don’t know. You gotta call the clinic and find out.”
Jody let out a loud sigh, and then dropped her head in her hands. “It’s always something. I can’t ever get ahead.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Ronica agreed, lighting up a cigarette.
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t let her start having babies this soon in life. I’m gonna have to figure out a way to get that money from somewhere.”
“I know that’s right. Girl, can you imagine being a twenty-nine-year-old grandmother?” Ronica fell out laughing.
“Fuck no!” Frowning, Jody scratched her head “Seriously though, Ronica, this has to stay between us. Don’t be putting my business out on the streets.”
“I don’t run my mouth,” Ronica said, offended.
“Okay, so we gonna keep this shit on the low. Meanwhile, Miss Fresh Pot has to stay home from school until this situation is done and over with. “Get out of my face, Harlow. Go watch TV or something.”
Harlow skulked to the living room, but it was hard to enjoy watching cartoons on a TV screen that had gone fuzzy ever since the cable had gotten cut off, so Harlow listened to the exchange between her mother and Ronica.
“I’m getting nervous,” Jody confided to Ronica. “The truancy people came by here today. I couldn’t believe that they had the nerve to come here and bang on my door.”
“What did they say?” Ronica’s eyes twinkled with excitement.
“Girl, I didn’t go anywhere near that door. Those assholes stuck a note in my mailbox.” Jody shook her head. “I gotta get this girl straight so she can take her ass back to school. I need those motherfuckers to get off my back.”
“What did the note say? Do you have to go to truancy court?”
“I don’t know. I ripped that shit up into a million little pieces. I ain’t trying to hear nothing that’s gon’ shatter my nerves any worse than they already are.”
Ronica lit another cigarette.
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