The Aftermath

by Anna J.

  “What is it already, damn!”

  “You have to promise me you won’t hurt her. She’s pregnant with my niece or nephew, and she needs to be here for her child. I don’t want him or her to go through what Monica and I went through as kids.”

  “You have my word. I just need her to give me some info on Rico; then I’ll call all the dogs off, even Shaneka.”

  “What beef Shaneka got with my sister? Yo, I know she don’t want none. That bitch ain’t as crazy as she thinks she is.”

  “Calm down. She thinks Monica is carrying Rico’s baby, that’s all.”

  “OK, but I already told you she’s not, so make her aware of the situation before I have to.”

  “Yoyo, you have my word. Shaneka will not be a problem. Just call your sister, please.”

  She looked at me like she was leery, but after I started counting out hundred-dollar bills on the countertop, she slowly began dialing the numbers to her sister’s residence. Yoyo was really taking me through it this time, but I had to do what I had to do.

  “Hey, Monica, how’s my little niece or nephew doing?”

  I couldn’t hear what Monica was saying to her on the other end of the phone, so I just sat back and tried to read Yoyo’s facial expressions. I listened as they chatted about baby shit and some kind of mural that Monica had completed for the baby’s room. They talked about baby furniture and all that jazz. Monica must have promised her something because she started smiling. I started taking back hundreds, making her face frown up. She gestured for me to hold up.

  “So, did you hear more about Rico?”

  I wasn’t sure what Monica said, but I knew it wasn’t good when Yolanda’s face frowned up. I wasn’t in the mood for no bullshit until I heard Yolanda tell Monica to grab her cell phone and call the ambulance.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. Your water just broke. I’ll hold on. Just call 911 so someone can come get you. I promise I won’t hang up.”

  For the next twenty minutes I listened to Yolanda as she coached Monica. This bitch was about to have a baby, and I needed some information from her. I’d be calling Tony the locksmith sooner than expected. I wouldn’t ransack her house, but I would be paying it a visit very soon.

  Monica

  Nobody Has to Know

  As I felt the pain of the contractions I wondered if the pain I was enduring was worth it. I had been in labor for ten hours now. Yep, I was getting ready to deliver the baby James and I had conceived, and the physical pain from the contractions was almost so unbearable that I began to wonder whether or not getting pregnant by James in the first place had been worth it. While I contemplated my present plight, my mind began to drift back to the emotional pain I had endured during my childhood and adolescent years. I didn’t know which pain had been worse, but while the physical pain would eventually end, it seemed I would forever be plagued by emotional pain. Of all times, why during labor was I thinking about my dirty-old-no-good uncle? I could still hear his voice.

  “Monica, open this damn door! What I tell you about locking my damn doors around here?”

  I was on the other side, fearing for my life as I hurriedly dressed before my drunk uncle broke down the door. I didn’t want him to see me undressed, especially knowing what would happen if he did. I zipped up my pants and tucked my shirt in tightly. I unlocked the door and opened it just before he was about to kick it down.

  “Who you got in this room, girl? Who you tryna hide?” Uncle Darryl said, barging into the room and almost knocking me into the wall.

  I stood as far away from the bed as possible, not wanting to give him any ideas. I didn’t know how I ended up in this never-ending nightmare, but I knew that when I got old enough I would leave. In my heart I vowed that no man would ever touch me once I escaped. Not like this.

  “I was ’sleep and didn’t hear the door,” I replied in a barely audible voice. I didn’t want to upset my uncle anymore than he already was.

  “Let me find out you lying,” he responded with a snarl, “Ain’t nobody hittin’ that but me, and as ugly as you is won’t nobody want cha anyways. Get cha ass downstairs and clean that kitchen. I told you I wanted that done before I came home from work.”

  “OK, Uncle Darryl, I’m right behind you,” I stated, looking around the room for something to do so I wouldn’t have to walk past him.

  “I said I want it done now. Move ya ass!”

  Hesitantly, I moved by him as quickly as I could, almost running. I wasn’t fast enough because he reached out, grabbed my pants pocket, and pulled me back by my shirt collar. He reached into my shirt and fondled my young breasts. I grimaced as he rubbed himself against me and kissed behind my ear. I did everything I could to hold back the tears, hoping he wouldn’t make me go back into the room.

  “Nobody betta not be hittin’ this but me. Ya hear?” he whispered into my ear as he continued to explore my underdeveloped body.

  “Yes sir,” was my only reply as I made my way downstairs after he released me.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what a grown man could see in me. Boys my age thought I was hideous, so I couldn’t understand why I had to practically beat my uncle off me at least five nights a week. He seemed to get off on just rubbing the head against me. I gagged every time. I knew the slimy stuff he left behind was not supposed to be there, and I honestly thought the only reason he didn’t actually do it to me was because it wouldn’t fit.

  I found myself on a few nights holding a mirror between my legs so I could look at myself to see if something was different. There was barely any hair there, and it didn’t look appealing. But that didn’t seem to keep his mouth off it. Uncle Darryl had threatened to kill me if anyone found out, and my fourteen-year-old mind believed it, so I took the abuse, hoping he would die or leave me alone. Who could I tell anyway?

  I didn’t know what to do about the red bumps that hurt like hell when I went to pee, but I knew I had to do something soon because I couldn’t take the itching and burning anymore.

  I cried. I wished my mom were still alive. My mother was killed by her lover and I was powerless to help her. My feet felt like lead, like they were glued to the floor. I watched my stepfather beat my mother to death.

  When the cops came that day, my sister, the baby of the family, was taken to go live with her Aunt Joyce over in West Philly. My brother, the middle child, was taken to his grandparent’s house, and I was stuck with drunk ass Uncle Darryl. I didn’t know if I was going to make it out alive, but I knew if I did, every man would pay dearly for what I went through. I thought the abuse would be over when my mom passed away. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about my stepfather trying to sneak into the room late at night, and my mom acting like she didn’t know. But I jumped out of the frying pan and into a big ass fire. Uncle Darryl was bold, and the fight was no longer easy. He would pay when the time was right. He and every man after him would get what they deserved.

  A sharp pain in my side quickly brought me back to reality, and soon after my son was born. The doctor said it was too late to give me an epidural, so I had to bear the pain of childbirth. When he came out I didn’t want to hold him. The nurse cleaned him up and put him in a crib next to my bed. I was upset that I couldn’t take a shower right away. My legs felt like wet spaghetti, so even if I wanted to get out of the bed, I couldn’t.

  My first instinct was to leave my son in the hospital and let them deal with it. But my heart wouldn’t let me. For two days straight I stared at him, letting the nurses feed and change him. I refused to hold him, but I had the nerve to get an attitude because the doctor made him cry during his circumcision. He looked so much like James and Jazz’s son Jalil that it wasn’t funny. I knew James didn’t care, but I decided to call him anyway to let him know his child was born.

  It was nearly three in the afternoon, so I called James’s job. I was going to take the sucker way out and leave a message on the stations answering machine, but at this point I just felt betrayed. It wasn’t real
ly about me anymore. It was about his child. I felt that I needed to talk to James for my son’s sake. I dialed the station. The phone rang twice before the nosey old lady who sits at the front desk answered.

  “Good afternoon, and thank you for calling The Urban News Network. How may I direct your call?”

  “Can you connect me to James Cinque, please?”

  “Who may I tell him is calling?”

  “His new baby’s mother, bitch! Just connect us. Damn all the questions.”

  The line got quiet for a second, and I thought she hung up on me. Just as I was about to snap the fuck out I heard James’s voice come from the other line.”

  “Thanks for calling T.U.N.N. This is James speaking. How can I help you?”

  “I had a boy.”

  “Excuse me? Who is this?”

  “James, don’t play stupid. It’s Monica. I had your son two days ago.”

  It got quiet on the other line, and if it weren’t for his breathing I would’ve thought he had hung up the phone. A part of me felt bad for James. I knew this baby was the last thing he wanted, but this was the consequence of having sex without protection. In the beginning he came to me willingly. It wasn’t until later on that he decided to fall back, and that wasn’t working too well with me.

  “Hello? James, are you still there?” I had a slight smile on my face from his discomfort, but it really wasn’t a funny situation. James could shell out all the money in the world. At the end of the day I was the one stuck with a crying baby. I would definitely be getting a live-in nanny. I didn’t do diapers.

  “Monica, what hospital are you in?”

  “The University of Penn. Why, are you coming to see your newborn son?”

  “No, I’m coming to get a blood test. This ain’t no Jerry Springer shit, OK? I’ll be there within the hour.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to say anything else. He just hung up the phone. I placed the receiver back on the base and sat up on the side of the bed to look at the baby up close. They had finally let me shower, so I was able to move around a bit.

  I carefully took him out the crib and cradled him to my chest so I wouldn’t drop him. There was no doubt in my mind that this was James’s son. He had his eyes and everything. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them drop. If I was going to move on to a normal life I had to stay strong.

  I laid the baby on my chest and rubbed his back. I giggled as I watched him suck his thumb. It then hit me that there was no turning back. I was a mother. I stared at him for what felt like an eternity. I had no idea how much time had elapsed, but when I looked up and saw James standing in the doorway I knew it was time to face reality, and there was no turning back. It was time to take care of business.

  James

  Here and Now

  I look in your eyes, and there I see what happiness really means. The love that we share makes life so sweet. Together we’ll always be ...

  Istood outside the door and watched Monica and our son for a few minutes before I walked in. I say “our” son, because deep down inside I knew he was mine. Yeah, I truly believed that Monica was a slut, but why lie about something like this?

  When I walked into the room she looked at me like she was shocked I had shown up. I stopped at the gift shop before I came up to the room and got her a few “It’s A Boy” balloons, and flowers for the side table. I wasn’t sure why I made the effort, but she looked appreciative.

  I stood at the door for a few minutes, capturing the moment in my mind. Inching closer I slowly made my way to the side of the bed, looking at my son for the first time. Damn, there was no denying him. We had the same face. He looked just like Jalil when he was first born. I blinked back tears, keeping the reason why I was there at the forefront of my mind.

  “So, do you believe me now?”

  “Monica, I never said I didn’t believe you. Any man would have doubts in this situation. Look at the circumstances.”

  “Fuck circumstances, James. Look at him! This is your child.”

  Monica began to cry and it was breaking me down. I almost gave in, but I thought about how I got here in the first place. Plus, I needed to come correct with Jazz. Her stomach was growing more every day with our children, and it was only fair to her that we knew how to proceed from here on out. I was a lot of things, but a deadbeat dad wasn’t one of them. No, I didn’t want Monica in my life, but we had a child together, so I had to do what was needed to make things right.

  “Monica, can you buzz the nurse in for the blood test? We need to get this done.”

  “Blood test? Are you telling me that you are still going to go through with it even though it is clear that James, Jr. is yours?”

  “James, Jr.?”

  “Yes, James will be a junior. He might as well carry on the family name.”

  “Monica, Jazz is going to make our son a junior if she has one. You have to change his name.”

  “It’s first come first served in this game. She’s just going to have to think of something else.”

  “Look, Monica . . .”

  Monica cut me off as she stated, “You come up in here talking about a blood test and all this other bullshit but what you need to do is bring that blood test shit to your wife because she’s probably not even pregnant with your fucking baby!”

  Monica was a sick, twisted, manipulative bitch and this was a perfect example of her bipolar ways. But I wasn’t trying to fall for her tricks. I knew that those babies Jazz was carrying were my kids. There was no way in hell Jazz would have stepped out on me and gotten pregnant! So I quickly dismissed what Monica had said.

  “Look! Call the damn nurse in so we can get this over with. I have to get home to my wife and kids.”

  Monica paused and looked at me and shook her head.

  “So, you’re going to go through with this?”

  “Either you push the damn button, or I go get her. It’s your choice.”

  As Monica went to her bed to push the button, I walked across the room and leaned my head against the window, trying to think of a way to propel myself into the rush hour traffic that crowded the street fourteen stories down. For a brief second I wondered if my dad was like this and my mom never said anything. Did I have brothers and sisters out there who I didn’t know about? How was I going to explain this to Jaden and Jalil? How do I tell them that they have a brother and it’s not from their mom?

  I took a seat until the nurse came, making myself as comfortable as possible given the situation. Periodically, I would look over at Monica. She put Junior back in the crib and was looking at television. The curiosity was killing me. I had to hold him.

  I tiptoed over to him and leaned over to get a good look at his face. Gently picking him up and holding him close to my chest, my heart soared when he reached up and wrapped his hand around my pinky finger. The last time I felt like this was when the twins were born, and I almost forgot how it felt to be surrounded by innocence.

  Taking my seat again, I studied his face for signs of another man, but it was like I was looking into the fountain of youth. The nurse came in to let us know that she would be ready for us in a few minutes. As she was walking out the room a very stunning woman walked in. She was gorgeous, and my man began to rise to the occasion.

  “Girl, you look good considering you just pushed out a baby! Where is my darling nephew?” Still in shock, I stared at the woman who was obviously Monica’s sister. She was the bomb, and I had to remind myself that I had a wife at home.

  “His father is holding him, but he’ll be leaving soon so you can hold him then. We’re waiting on the nurse to come back so she can do the blood test.”

  “Blood test? For what? Didn’t you just say he was claiming him?”

  “Yeah, but he has to explain it to his wife, I guess.”

  “His wife! Monica, are you serious?”

  “First of all, you two aren’t going to talk about me like I’m not here. If you have any questions about me, or my family, as
k me. I have nothing to hide. Monica was a terrible mistake.”

  I definitely had an attitude. How did they think they were going to put me on Front Street, like this entire episode was my fault? Monica played just as much of a role as I did. I wanted this portion of my life to be over.

  Before Monica or her sister could get in another word, the nurse came in to draw blood for the test. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on Monica while the nurse tried her best to find a vein. She poked me seven times before she was able to draw blood, reminding me why I hated needles. My heart dropped when she went through the hassle with my son, his small cry echoing in my head long after she put a bandage on him.

  “Sir, if you’d like to wait around, the test should be back from the lab within the hour. It doesn’t normally take long.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll wait.”

  The nurse walked out, and I took my seat back in the corner. Monica and her sister made a fuss over the baby, and I heard mention of a shopping spree, but decided not to comment.

  In a little over an hour the nurse came back with the results. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. A part of me was hoping he belonged to someone else, but another part of me was hoping he was mine. When I held his little body in my arms, it felt right. The nurse gave both me and Monica a copy of the lab results. I couldn’t read mine. I was too scared.

  “Monica, I have to get going. We’ll talk another time.”

  “James, what are you talking about? Read the damn paper. This is what you wanted, right?”

  “I’ll read it later. I just need to get some air right now.”

  “Let me find out you fuckin’ with a deadbeat, Moni. For all this trouble you could’ve stuck it out with Rico,” Monica’s sister said from the sideline. I wanted to reach over and pop her in her smart ass mouth, but I decided to just keep it moving. It didn’t make sense to cause a scene with my son in the room.

  “Monica, when will you be released? Do you have a ride home?”