Harlow wished Jody would come back downstairs and save her. She wished she could hear her mother say, “It’s gonna be alright. We gon’ get through this together.” Those were the words she’d given Harlow after the first time she allowed Skeeter to have his way with her daughter.
Now she needed Jody to give her some tips on how to get through a pregnancy and care for the baby that Skeeter put in her stomach.
Maybe if her tummy was big and round, and if there were some obvious signs of pregnancy, perhaps Ms. Cakie and Jody would have second thoughts about removing it.
But the baby was invisible to Jody and the other two women. They didn’t care about it.
Miss Cakie held the long tube taut between her hands and began to insert it inside Harlow. Ronica squeezed Harlow’s hand. “It’s gon’ be alright, Harlow. Miss Cakie’s gonna get you fixed up so you can go back to school.”
Harlow tensed. This woman was not a doctor and she didn’t believe that she was in capable hands. She tried to breathe calmly, but she couldn’t help from gasping and panting. And trembling.
“You’re gonna have to keep still, now, so I can get this tube into your cervix.”
“My what?” Harlow asked, her voice shaky.
“Keep still!” Miss Cakie said with annoyance.
“Relax, honey,” Ronica said, stroking Harlow’s hair. Though Harlow was grateful for Ronica’s kindness, she would have preferred if Ronica told Miss Cakie to stop.
Agonizing seconds crept by. Unable to distract herself with her carnival fantasy, Harlow thought about being back in school. Having an abundance of school uniforms, lots of shoes and sharp boots. And a lot of cute jewelry from Claire’s at the mall. She imagined being so special that she became the teacher’s pet. But none of her imaginings were working. She was painfully aware that it was taking forever for Miss Cakie to get that red tube inside her.
“Whew, it’s hot as hell in here.” Miss Cakie mopped her brow. With the back of her hand, she wiped perspiration from her neck.
“What’s the problem?” Ronica asked.
“Tube keeps bending. Can’t get it in. Get me a hanger from inside the closet.” Miss Cakie pointed to the small living room.
Alarmed, Harlow sat up. She definitely didn’t like the direction this abortion was going in.
“What do you need a hanger for?” Ronica inquired.
Miss Cakie clucked her tongue. “I’m not sticking it inside the girl. I have to put the hanger inside the tube to keep it straight.”
“Oh!” Ronica said and went to the living room. A moment later, she returned with a wire hanger. Harlow noticed excitement dancing in Ronica’s eyes and realized that she’d lost Ronica’s compassion. Ronica had resumed being an enthused spectator. Harlow felt alone and more terrified than ever.
No longer fumbling, Miss Cakie guided the tube inside Harlow. The foreign object went well beyond the known boundaries of her vagina. It seemed to be inside her stomach. The tubing didn’t exactly hurt, but it was extremely comfortable. She wanted Miss Cakie to hurry up and take it out of her.
With slow and calm motions, Miss Cakie attached the funnel thing to the end of the tube. “Hand me that,” she mumbled to Ronica, referring to the bowl of gook.
“What’s that supposed to do?” Ronica asked. Harlow could tell that Ronica was asking to be nosey, not because she was concerned for Harlow’s safety.
“Stops the fetus from growing.”
What’s a fetus? Harlow had no idea. She imagined that a fetus must be that wiggly-looking cord thing that she saw on the Discovery Channel when the station showed a program about giving birth.
Ronica removed her soothing hand from Harlow’s hand and moseyed next to Miss Cakie. “What is that stuff? Smells like some kind of soap.”
Miss Cakie snorted. “I don’t give out my secrets.”
Miss Cakie poured the solution into the funnel. Harlow gritted her teeth, expecting to feel a horrible sting or a burning sensation, but she didn’t feel anything.
After the bowl was emptied, Miss Cakie slowly withdrew the tube.
Harlow’s thighs were sticky with the substance from the bowl. Skeeter often left her in that exact condition when he exited her room.
“Go on upstairs to the bathroom and clean yourself up. There’s some washcloths in the bathroom cabinet,” Miss Cakie mumbled as she began to pick up the objects from the table.
Harlow sat up and looked around. “Where’s the baby you took out?” she asked, hoping she could hold the little miniature thing.
“Ain’t gon’ be no baby. You’re gon’ have some big ol’ clumps of blood. That’s about it. But it’s gon’ take a day or so for that to happen. Now, go on and clean yourself up.”
Harlow swung her legs over the side of the table and hopped down.
“Don’t forget your panties,” the woman said, nodding her head toward the chair in which the panties had fallen.
“When you get home, I want you to move some furniture around. Stay active. Jump some rope outside.” Miss Cakie turned her attention to Ronica. “Do children still jump rope?”
Ronica shrugged. “Do y’all jump rope, Harlow?”
“Sometimes,” Harlow mumbled.
“They having sex at such a young age, I can’t even imagine kids running and playing like they did back in my day.” Miss Cakie shook her head.
Harlow was an outcast at school. She didn’t get invited to jump rope very often, and therefore wasn’t very good at it. She hadn’t always been a social piranha. Back in the first and second grade, back when Jody used to comb her hair and had kept her clothes up-to-date and clean and ironed, Harlow had been treated like a normal child at school. But the past few years had been tough. As Jody’s drug habit escalated, Harlow’s social status plummeted. Harlow was often the butt of cruel jokes. She never fought back. She’d been picked on for so long and with such consistency, she had begun to believe that she was all the low down names the kids called her.
In Harlow’s mind, her life would change when she became an adult, when she could get away from Jody and her addiction.
She fantasized about being married with children. Two boys and a girl. She and her family would live in a beautiful home. Her fantasy family were happy and loving, like on TV. Her husband would wear a suit and tie, not loose clothing with pockets filled with bags of crack and weed.
CHAPTER 30
At four in the morning, Nivea could no longer ignore her full bladder. She stumbled out of bed and flopped down on the cushioned toilet seat, releasing what seemed like an everlasting stream of urine. Her head hurt, and her heart ached. Is tomorrow a work day? Feeling panicked, she wondered how she could possibly perform the responsibilities of her job. Then she remembered that it was the wee hours of Christmas morning and that she’d taken a week off for the holidays. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Washing her hands, she peered at her reflection and saw a puffy face with smeared mascara around her eyes. She tore off the flimsy short robe and tossed it in the clothes hamper. Rather than dwell on her awful appearance, she stepped into the shower.
Blissfully, she stood under the showerhead while jets of hot water pummelled her skin. As worrisome thoughts began to creep in her mind, she began lathering. She couldn’t keep up the pretense much longer, but she couldn’t figure out how to break the news to her family that she’d called off the wedding. Though her mother would be relieved that she wouldn’t have to claim a common laborer as her son-in-law, she would still find a way to make Nivea feel inadequate for being single.
After drying off, she pulled on a fluffy robe. She was alert now and sober enough to realize that if she didn’t stop guzzling bottles of vodka, her life would soon spiral out of control. Eric had never deserved her in the first place and she’d be damned if she’d let him and his chicken head, baby mama drive her to a state of perpetual drunkenness.
The doorbell rang and Nivea jumped out of her skin. Someone was pressing on the bell repeatedly, acting des
perate to get inside.
It had to be Eric! He’d taken all his personal belongings, and there was absolutely no reason for him to be ringing her bell, harassing her. That bastard had a lot of nerve, bothering her early Christmas morning. If he thought he could buy his way back into her life with some cheap piece of jewelry, he was out of his mind.
Indignation sent her rushing toward the front door. Prepared to use maximum force, she picked up a brass candlestick from the mantle in the living room. I’m bashing Eric upside his stupid head for putting me though this trauma.
Prepared to curse out Eric, Nivea swung the door open. And like déjà vu, there stood her sister’s fiancé…again. She stared at Knox in disbelief, recalling her lewd antics earlier that night.
“What do you want?” she asked irritably. Knox was an unpleasant reminder that her drinking was getting out control.
“Hey, Sis. I’m sorry for dropping by this hour of the morning, but I was in the area and I wanted to check up on you. You seemed kind of messed up when I left.” He peered at her questioningly.
“As you can see, I’m fine,” Nivea said sullenly. “Look, stop calling me Sis. We’re not related.” Nivea moved to close the door.
“I apologize. I’m really concerned about you. Are you alone?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“We need to talk.” His tone was serious.
She scowled. “About what?”
“About your behavior.”
This boy is letting his future foot doctor status go to his head. He’s acting like he’s about to become a damn psychiatrist or something. So what if I flashed some boobage? I was drunk. Sue me!
“Are you nuts? It’s after four in the morning. If you want to talk to somebody, you better go talk to your fiancée. Get with Courtney about her goddamn behavior.”
“You got it all wrong.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I like your behavior. Since I left here, I can’t get you out of my mind. The thoughts I’m having…” He paused and shook his head. “Every time I think about tonight, I feel like I’m going crazy. You’re real sexy, Nivea. I think we’re on the same wavelength.”
Should I be insulted? She blinked at him, perplexed.
A teasing grin spread over his face. With his features in full focus, she had to admit that Knox was a good-looking young man. But he was clearly was up to no good. She looked at the candleholder in her hand, wondering if she should use it on him.
“I can’t stay long,” he added. “I just want to find out if that thing tastes as good as it looked.”
Feeling tempted, a spasm of nerves went through her. Instead of ordering her sister’s fiancé to get off her porch, Nivea pulled the door open. Oddly, his crude language was getting to her. Had her all creamy between her legs. And the idea of fucking around behind her sister’s back was extremely appealing.
Knox came inside, bringing with him a rush of cold air.
He didn’t try to smooth talk his way inside Nivea’s bedroom. He didn’t lead her over to the couch. He didn’t even take off his jacket or his knit cap. Breathing hard like he’d run a race, Knox backed Nivea into a corner. His hunger was palpable as he crouched down before her, ripping open her robe. His cold hands gripped her thighs as he pressed his face almost reverently against her crotch.
Unable to control her lust, Nivea didn’t question this act of betrayal. Wordlessly, she spread her legs for her sister’s fiancé, a man she’d only spoken a few words to over brunch…a man who was virtually a stranger.
His tongue made contact. He used the tip to separate her labia, delicately, like he was gently spreading silk curtains. “Mmm. You got that good-good,” he uttered in a strangled voice.
“Oh, God,” she replied, her legs beginning to shake uncontrollably. She widened her stance, trying to give him complete access to all the pussy he could eat.
Holding Nivea by the hips, Knox lowered her down to the floor. He rolled onto his back.
You know what I want, don’t you?” he asked, his voice roughened like he was ready to get violent.
“What?” she questioned breathlessly.
“I want you to ride my face.”
“Ride what?” Bewildered, Nivea blinked a couple of times.
“Get on my face. I want you to squirt cum all over my face and in my mouth.”
A sudden heatwave overtook her. She wiped a trail of perspiration from her neck. This nasty-talking pervert was bringing out something savage in her. She couldn’t blame it on the alcohol. No, something else had her going. She was jealous of her sister, and was happy for the opportunity to hurt her. She was angry with Eric and wanted revenge. The stickiness between her legs was accumulating. Announcing its need, her ravenous pussy began to make loud, demanding, wet sounds.
With Knox’s head sandwiched between her thighs, Nivea gyrated against his soft lips. She lifted up slightly. Using two fingers of each hand, she stretched her pussy wide open, accepting the stiffened tongue he inserted. She rotated her hips; her pussy clenching his tongue like it was an erect dick.
Nivea had never thought of herself as being a freak, but the savage sounds that tore from her throat made her wonder about herself.
But there was no time for self-analysis. Knox’s puckered lips began to tug on her clit, affecting raw nerve endings, making her writhe and lose her rhythm. Awash in delicious sensations, she emitted a long moaning whimper. She could feel an intense orgasm travelling through her. On the brink of ecstasy, she froze, incapable of moving.
As if her passion had taken on a different flavor, Knox grunted, opening his mouth wider as he awaited his pleasure.
Thighs locked around her future brother-in-law’s face, Nivea exploded.
CHAPTER 31
Yuri had entirely too many presents. Vangie was trying to keep up with Yuri, snapping pictures as fast as Yuri could open them.
“Slow down, Yuri. You’re tearing into your presents and then tossing them aside. You’re barely looking at any of the presents from Aunt Harlow, and Daddy and me.”
“Yes, I am,” Yuri responded, snatching a big red bow off an oblong box and tossing it into the chaos of wrapping paper and ribbons.
Shawn patted Vangie’s thigh. “He has his own way of doing things.”
“We’re not filling this living room up with unappreciated toys next year,” Vangie whispered in a pissed-off tone.
“Lighten up, baby. It’s Christmas. Let him have fun.” Shawn squinted at Vangie as if trying to figure out why her mood had gone sour.
It was their first Christmas together as a family, a momentous occasion that should have brought her joy, but Vangie’s mind was preoccupied. Trying to spot a puffy, ring-shaped boxed, her eyes darted among the gifts beneath the tree.
This is ridiculous; I’m acting like a child. At that moment, she decided to stop pouting and to count her blessings. Her greatest gift was having her family together. Yuri was definitely behaving better now that his father was in his life.
Besides, Shawn had spent so much money on Yuri, he probably couldn’t afford to buy her a ring, even if he wanted to. And there was another holiday to look forward to. Valentine’s Day was only a month and a half away.
Feeling much better, she picked up a box with Shawn’s name on it. “This is for you, sweetheart.”
Smiling, Shawn gently shook the box. “What is it?”
Yuri stopped ravaging his presents. “Open it, Daddy!”
“Nah, ladies before gentlemen,” Shawn said. He stood up and went behind the tree and retrieved a beautifully wrapped present topped off with a big pink bow that had been hidden from sight.
Vangie’s heart sank when she saw the size of her gift. Any hopes for a ring were now shattered. She mentally prepared herself for lingerie. With an awkward smile, she handled the box, gauging the heaviness. It’s not a ring, she thought unhappily. But it’s the thought the counts, she reminded herself.
“Open it, baby,” Shawn prodded.<
br />
Vangie was afraid to open it, fearful that she’d grimace. Vangie ran her fingernail beneath the strip of adhesive tape, and slowly peeled the gift wrap away from the box. Shawn knows that I want to get married, so why is he looking at me with such a satisfied smile? I hope I can pretend to be thrilled about whatever is inside this box.
Her heart sank when she saw the Victoria’s Secret lettering on the outside of the box. Vangie looked at Shawn, a strained smile in place. Beneath the tissue paper were a gorgeous red lace garter slip, a colorful array of garters, push-up bras and thongs. And several pairs of thigh-high stockings. One of the bra and thong sets was covered in crystal pieces. She picked up each piece of lingerie, peeking around for her hidden diamond ring. But there was no ring inside the box. “Thank you, Shawn. Everything’s beautiful.” Vangie leaned in and gave Shawn a quick, halfhearted kiss.
“You gon’ model some of that for me tonight?” he said in a husky whisper.
I’m nothing but a sex object to this man. She laughed, but she wanted to cry.
“Open your present, Shawn,” Vangie said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Not yet. I wanna see that pretty smile get bigger,” Shawn said confidently.
She felt a little leap of excitement. Vangie’s heart picked up speed. He got me a ring!
“Hey, son, can you stop unwrapping gifts long enough to get your mom’s other present from under the tree.”
“The one I got her?” Yuri asked.
Vangie was instantly deflated, but pretended to be happy. “You got me a present, Yuri?”
“Uh-huh. Daddy helped me pick it out,” Yuri said proudly. His face was alit with joy as he presented Vangie with a gift wrapped with shiny red paper. Vangie could feel the corners of her mouth twitching as she struggled to keep the forced smile on her face.
There was no point in delaying disappointment. She ripped off the wrapping paper from the box, flipped off the lid and stared forlornly at a Louis Vuitton bag. A fifteen-hundred-dollar bag that any woman would have been thrilled to receive. But the money Shawn had spent on the designer gift was money wasted. She wanted a ring, not a handbag.
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