by Love Belvin
The phone rang long and loud as my pulse beat in my throat and mouth felt like a bag of sand. Andrea stood over me, waiting to confirm what she’d just come to my room to share. I couldn’t believe Ashton had gotten into another fight with the Pettiford guy, and this time over me. The cops and ambulance were called to the Winnie dorm room about twenty minutes ago.
I stopped breathing when there was a pickup.
My eyes jumped to Andrea, then I desperately cried, “Ashton!”
There was so much noise in the background I didn’t hear at first from being impatient. “It’s Al, Tori. I’m in the ambulance with him.”
It was Ashton who needed the ambulance!
Both Andrea and my eyes mushroomed.
“Can I speak to him?” My heart bled with anticipation…longing for him.
He hesitated, leaving room for me to hear the paramedics talking about what had to be Ashton’s injuries. How serious was this fight?
“He’s—” Again, Al hesitated. “I don’t think—” Then I heard him mumbling something.
“No!” I heard a new, nasally voice. Al said something more I couldn’t make out, but I did recognize my name. “YOU HEARD WHAT THE FUCK I SAID!” I leaped back on the bed, feeling a physical blow from his words. Andrea pulled in a deep breath and covered her mouth. “FUCK WHOEVER IT IS!”
“Please calm down, Mr. Spencer.” That must have been one of the paramedics.
Yes, he was in an ambulance, an inconvenient time and place. But I’d never, in a million years, thought I’d get a fuck you from Ashton Spencer. Why wouldn’t I? Me, the campus whore. Why would he want to speak to me?
“Look, Tori—”
“I get it.” I interrupted Al’s incoming apology with hot tears pouring down my face and in my voice. “Bye.”
I hung up the phone feeling the biggest hole in my chest.
Like Samantha, I left Blakewood early. I had to wait a few days for my travel allowance to be approved by a disappointed Trisha and the athletic department, but I was happy to. I didn’t hear from Ashton at all. Aivery couldn’t be found either, but that could have been because I stayed in my dorm, only leaving to get food. I didn’t want to be seen and when I was, it was met with nasty and/or curious stares. The whole campus, including the staff, knew about Ashton and me.
But no one knew about the pregnancy. That had been the only thing keeping me from totally breaking before boarding the plane. I had less than a couple of hundred dollars in cash when I landed in Philadelphia. A cab ride home ate into that. Instead of stressing over it, I decided right away that I’d be strong. Blakewood State University would be buried in the back of my mind, like other dark memories.
I would not be the Tori that left Millville. I had to be a new person returning. No, there wasn’t much here, but I had to make the most out of what I could for my baby. A baby. Something I’d been wanting for a long time, but never thought would be because of my weirdness. Now, ready or not, I had to make life happen for myself.
My mother wasn’t home when I made it to her trailer. It was a mess: food everywhere, paperwork stacked on the tables and counters, mostly medical bills. Dishes filled the sink, and the toilet and bathtub had rings in them. It was heartbreaking, but not something I could focus on. I dropped my things and walked half a mile to the bank. Within thirty minutes or so, I’d opened up a checking account with one hundred dollars and was able to deposit a check written to me by a NormaJean McNeil. She wanted me to use the money to address my pregnancy, and I would. Not for an abortion, but to get me to the next step of establishing myself.
When I made it back home, my mother was there. As I walked through the door, she was leaning over the counter, searching through medication bottles.
“Ma.” Slowly, she turned to me, not reacting to my presence right away. My mother looked thinner, weak—nothing like I imagined. “You kept telling me you were okay.”
“Tori?” she questioned before turning around completely. “I thought you was getting in tonight.”
“Ma!” I inspected her from head to toe. Her hair was a netted mess, clothes twisted and rolled sloppily. And she couldn’t stand up straight. “What’s going on here?”
Suddenly, she sputtered, “Tori! Oh my god, Tori!” I ran to her and she snatched me up into a hug instantly. “I didn’t want to ask you to quit school for me. This shit is bad, Tori! I’m really sick. Can’t work to pay these bills!” She cried into my ponytail. “The park tryna put me out, and my benefits ain’t kick in yet. I’m sorry, man. I ‘on’t know what to do!”
She blubbered her words, and I felt the tremor in her frame. Not from tears, but subtle ones obvious from illness. My mother had never been so emotional, and I couldn’t remember the last time she hugged me. Not at my Margaret Maureen’s funeral, and not when I left for BSU. I felt the echoes of her pain in her spine. I had no clue my mother was this broken.
“Okay, Ma.” I backed us into the living room. “Let’s sit you down.”
We were both teary messes. A first for us. But heartache can bind people, especially family.
“Ma,” I started, hoping she could hear me over her low groans. It didn’t matter. I had a new plan that I would execute. “I’m home for good. I’m not going back. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll start with cleaning up around here, then I’ll go through your bills and get them in order. We’ll pay what can be paid until I can find a job. But we’re getting out of Maurberry Village.”
She quieted, eyes bulged. “How?”
“I’m going to figure it out. Someplace nice with…three bedrooms.”
“Three bedrooms? Tori, what we need that for? This two-bedroom is all we need.”
I wanted to remind her of the nightmares that occurred for me here, but thought against it. I refused to think about anything negative or impossible.
“Mommy,” I murmured, swallowing. “I’m…ummm. I’m pregnant. I went to school and got pregnant.” My throat thickened at the disappointment I felt verbalizing my mistake. “I don’t want you to take care of me or the baby. I don’t want you to worry about anything but fighting this MS thing. I’m going to do everything else.”
“Oh, my shit!” she chirped, curled stiffly in the chair. “Tori, you gonna have a baby? I’mma be a grandma?” I didn’t expect her to be happy for me. More hot tears fell from my face. I chased them with my hands as I nodded. “Oh, shit! I remember you, Renata and Treesha, and them running around here talking about how many kids y’all want and what you was gonna name ‘em. Now, my little girl’s having her a real baby.”
I fell to my knees and hugged my mother again, squeezing her tight as I bawled out in tears.
That acceptance was cool water to my hot shame. It was all I needed to get started.
It was tiring, but perfect. In less than two months, I had a job working at a diner and moved my mother and me into a three-bedroom apartment inside a brand new development. I used the money from NormaJean’s charity to fix up my mother’s car so I could get back and forth to work and take her to her doctor’s appointments.
We hosted a Fourth of July get-together in our first-floor unit. As my luck would have it, Renata was able to come home for a few days for the holiday, and I caught her up on everything Treesha left out in her letters.
The next day, I started a second job as a receptionist at a dental office. It was perfect because I needed healthcare benefits for prenatal care, something I’d been going without. That had me change my shifts to evenings and nights at the diner, which they were okay with. My benefits kicked in after two months, and I learned at my first OB/GYN appointment I was carrying a boy and was due in November, the day before Thanksgiving. I cried on the table.
That night, when I finally made it home, I threw the Blackberry Ashton had given me in the trash. I hadn’t used it since the week after my return home. It had been powered off. I felt if I’d made it this far without hearing from him, I was ready to let go of everything he’d given me.
By the end
of the summer, my mother needed help bathing and used a cane to get around. She kept bumping into things around the apartment. It worried me while I worked. Aunt Sonya, Treesha, and Toya would come by and stay with her for a few hours at a time when they could. Those visits gave me peace of mind. That was especially because I started feeling like I was being followed. Weird, I know. But I was still a weird human, just one who now knew she liked guys—or could like guys.
One night, when I turned into my development after work, I saw a tinted out sedan sitting idle on the other side of the parking lot. It was the same one I’d seen on my lunch break the day before, and possibly the same I’d seen across the street from the diner earlier that evening. I didn’t say anything specific to my mother, but I did pay Toya to sleep at my place when she got off of work at the strip club. It wasn’t much, but she didn’t complain, and came when she could.
I’d been showing since late May. My belly had bulged a little earlier in that month, but nothing that screamed pregnancy until a couple weeks after I returned home. And while my weight didn’t get out of control and my nose didn’t spread right away, exhaustion became a bedfellow I came to hate. Shoot. I only battled morning sickness for about a month, but being tired to the point of sleeping all night sitting up on the sofa after work was an insane time for me.
So, when yells of “SURPRISE” rang out on a particular Saturday afternoon as I wobbled in exhausted from work, instead of smiling at the dozen of people throwing me a baby shower, I cried. Ragee’s big, beefy ass was there, front and center, likely uncomfortable around a gang of women who always seemed to flirt with him. I hadn’t seen him in months. Cried. I cried like a damn baby. What was even sadder was when I fell asleep an hour into the damn party. Thankfully, it was just a nap, and I was able to open the gifts when it was time.
Two days later, I came in from work to find a certified letter addressed to me waiting. Before I could kick off my shoes and take care of my mother’s bath, I opened it, hella curious. A check fell out, making me tremble anxiously. My hand went to my mouth after the first three lines.
Dear Madam Tori,
I hate that we didn’t get a chance to be in each other’s company again. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of hiring someone to find you. I’m not quite sure what happened in the spring at Blakewood, but the gist of it is your friendship has ended with Sir Spencer. It’s a shame. I wanted to bear witness to the polishing of the diamond you are.
I hear there are some Blakewood folks looking for you, but cannot locate you since you moved and changed your number. Those foolish people can’t be operating with much intelligence if they don’t think to employ a P.I. like I did. Silly scholars.
Why did that make me laugh and cry at the same time? Shit! Pregnancy made me a damn water fountain!
Now, along with obtaining your residential information, I did that of your employers. I know this isn’t much, but it is meant to extend an olive branch if you consider one necessary. I guess what I am trying to say is you have a friend in me should you care to.
Many blessings and warm wishes to you and your family.
Yours truly,
James Porter
It was no surprise that my face and chest were soaked by the time I got to his signature. I looked at the check again. It was nearly the same amount NormaJean had written out back in May. My hand went to my belly. In my wild thoughts, I wondered if Jimmy knew so much about my life, did he know I was pregnant? Would he have said if he did?
And why hadn’t Ashton tried to reach out to me?
I yawned, walking into my mother’s room. Freshly showered and having just twenty minutes to myself had done well, believe it or not. Her assistance was generous, and I was grateful. My heart melted in my chest when I heard his wails just feet away from the door.
“Oh, Bobby,” she sang while rocking his bassinet as much as her deep trembles would allow. “She’s coming right back.”
She wasn’t able to hold him much because of her condition, but other than that, you couldn’t keep her away from him.
I ambled over to the two and playfully sighed. “Now, Robert McNabb, I know you’re not hungry because I fed you before my shower.” His cries stopped, and those little bright eyes he’d stolen from a bossy human I’d once known widened as he recognized my voice. “And I know your pamper ain’t soiled either because your grandma would’ve said so.” I picked my son up and placed him on my shoulder. “So, that only means one thing: you want your momma. And you’re spoiled already.”
“He’s too young to be spoiled,” my mother griped. “I told you that enough times, KaToria!”
I laughed, walking little Bobby, as she nicknamed him, back to his room. He was here, and now a month old. Bobby ruled the house and was demanding as hell. But he was a welcomed party. I noticed my mother’s smile more and enjoyed the sound of her laughter. She adored everything the boy did, including sleep! He also distracted us from the stroke she’d had two weeks before he was born. It was a small one, but one that scared us like crazy. Her blood pressure had grown out of control the more immobile she became. We’d been focusing on her diet since the scare—and had been distracted by little man here.
Labor was hell, and delivery was created by the devil himself. After all those hellish cramps and impossible pushes, this precious thing had been born. I sat in the rocking chair I was able to purchase with lots of other fun baby gadgets thanks to some of the money Jimmy gave. I’d been reading to him at night as a ritual. I wanted my son to be smarter than me academically. I hoped a sharp mind was another trait he’d gotten from his father.
“What are we going to read tonight, lil’ man?” I asked while already lifting the book we’d started a few days ago. “‘Expanding Black Minds’ by Mr. Tyler Thomas. Yeah, let’s finish this.”
Going back to work after having a baby was harder than I thought. I didn’t want to leave him, but knew bills had to be paid. Childcare was expensive and, thankfully, I had a neighbor who had recently retired and could use the extra cash. It was also nice to have someone in the house with my mother regularly, too. Ms. Thompson kept an eye on Bobby, and my mother kept an eye on Ms. Thompson. And almost a week after returning from maternity leave, one of the supervisors quit, leaving an opportunity of a promotion for me. That raised my salary just enough for me to cut my hours to just two days a week at the diner. Another win for me. If it were not for childcare costs, I could have been down to just one gig. Nonetheless, I didn’t complain. I’d done it. I made a way for myself after the shit storm at that school.
It was now March, nearly a year since I left school. And while I sent a card expressing my thanks to Jimmy, I still had the wild suspicion of being watched. It wasn’t every day or every week, but every time I’d forgotten about the car, I’d see it. To cope, I told myself it was simply a resident of Millville and reminded myself of how small the town was.
That was until one evening when I’d just finished with dinner and bathing my mother. I left her in her favorite chair in her bedroom to fix her plate. Bobby was asleep in his bassinet in her room while I worked on her. The doorbell rang as soon as I crossed the kitchen for the hallway.
It was strange. Aunt Sonya, Treesha, and Toya called before they came over. So, my thoughts automatically went to Ms. Thompson. Maybe she’d left something here earlier? I lay the plate on the counter and went for the door.
I didn’t recognize her at first. She was thin. Even in a big, beautiful three-quarter length fur, she was so much thinner than I’d last seen her. She was also paler, no matter how much makeup she put on. Also, her head was covered in a black turbine with a Chanel brooch pinned to the front.
“Please don’t say I can’t come in. It’s freezing out here.” Reluctantly, I moved aside to let her in. I watched her take the place in, likely paying judgment to the home I’d proudly created. “May I sit?”
“NormaJean, how the hell do you even know I exist?”
“I can explain if you’d allow me
a moment off my feet.” Her smile had dimmed a lot.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
When I came back into the living room from serving my mother her dinner and checking in on the baby, NormaJean’s head swung, gazing over the walls and furniture while rubbing her arms up and down.
“I don’t have roaches or rats, if that’s what you’re worried about getting into your fur coat,” I hissed.
“I’m not. I’m just a little…curious. That’s all.”
“I’m not in your, or his, or her hair anymore, so I’ve got nothing for you to be curious about.”
“I’ve been getting updates on you for months now.”
My jaw dropped. “You had me followed?”
“It’s not the most dignified thing I’ve done, but I always have my reasons.”
“Then share with me. You want to harm my family or something, lady?”
“No!” Her head shook as she smiled. “I would never.” Then her eyes fell and danced toward the floor. “Ashton’s still not speaking to me.”
“And why should I care?” I sat back, acting bored by the information because I was.
“You shouldn’t. It was a travesty I caused.”
“What travesty?”
“You don’t know?” I shook my head. Me leaving couldn’t be the travesty because no one cared—except the athletic department who I learned, after Jimmy’s letter, had been looking for me. Trisha only had my work number and called once a month, asking me to come back. She didn’t know, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because of Bobby. I only told her I couldn’t because of my mother’s declining health. “Ashton didn’t make it to the League after all.”
My torso lurched forward and I felt sick. “He didn’t?”
“Do you watch television when you’re working at the diner?”
“How do you know I work at the diner?”
“I know a lot. Like I know the Kings couldn’t use him after his shoulder got busted and legs damaged. His legs are doing much better now with intense physical therapy. However, he’s had quite a few surgeries to repair his shoulder to normal function.”