by RM Johnson
“We went to the park and got some ice cream,” Daphanie said, stepping in, answering for Layla. “Then we went to the bookstore, and … wow, we had a very exciting day, right, Layla?”
Layla nodded.
“I know she’s got to be dog-tired,” Daphanie said. “She was nodding off in the car. I can take her up and bathe her, then put her to bed.” She eased Layla out of Nate’s hands.
“Yeah, okay,” Nate said. “Good night, Layla.”
“Good night,” the child said.
When Daphanie came back downstairs half an hour later, Nate was still sitting in his chair. The flat-panel television over the fireplace was on but muted. The evening news was being aired. Nate’s attention was still on the paper.
“Anything in there about the guy you’re looking for?” Daphanie asked, walking over and sitting on the sofa next to Nate.
“No.”
“On the news?”
“No.” He seemed solemn.
“Why would he do that? Take Nathaniel?”
Daphanie knew the answer, even though Nate had not told her. Lewis said it was in retaliation for Freddy’s girlfriend aborting his child.
Nate didn’t answer. His hand pressed against his side, he stood with a fair amount of pain, turned his back on Daphanie. He just stood there not facing her.
“Nate, are you okay?”
“He … he tried to kill me, Daphanie,” Nate said, his voice barely a whisper. “He killed his own father. He’s taken my son. What makes me think he won’t kill Nathaniel? Hasn’t already done it?”
“Nate, no!” Daphanie said, springing from the sofa and hurrying over to Nate.
Standing in front of him, she saw the tears spilling over his cheeks.
“All these years I’ve waited for a child, and when I finally find him, he’s taken from me,” Nate said, breaking down, weeping. He pressed his hands onto Daphanie’s shoulders for support. She felt he would’ve fallen if she wasn’t there.
She helped him over to the sofa, sat him down.
She sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing his head to her breasts as though he were her child.
“Nathaniel is fine. You’ll get him back, Nate.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t!” Nate said, sitting up, looking angrily at Daphanie. “He could be dead somewhere right now. And then what will I do?”
This wasn’t supposed to be the time, Daphanie thought. She hadn’t planned exactly when she was going to tell him, but she knew it wasn’t going to be this soon.
“You said you always knew you were supposed to be a father.”
“Yes.”
“God knows that. If Nathaniel doesn’t come back to you, he’ll give you another child.”
Nate looked at Daphanie oddly. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Daphanie eased away from Nate, stood from the sofa.
“Let me first say again, I respect the decision you made. What I’m about to tell you is in no way an effort to change that.”
“Daphanie, just say it.”
“Remember all the times we made love, telling ourselves that if we got pregnant, we would welcome the child?”
Daphanie could see Nate’s eyes widen, his chest starting to heave in anticipation of what she might say.
“Nate … I’m pregnant with your child.”
51
Lewis would do something to get Layla back, he thought as he walked up the stairs to Uncle Henry’s house. He just didn’t know what.
He let himself in the house, closed the door, and yelled, “Moms, I’m home.”
He didn’t receive a response.
“Moms, you around?”
He walked into the kitchen. Moms was sitting at the table, tears running down her face.
“Moms, what’s wrong?”
Lewis heard someone walk up behind him. He spun quickly, ready to defend himself. Freddy’s Uncle Henry stood there wearing a denim jacket and jeans. Lewis relaxed.
“Oh, hey, Uncle Henry. You scared me,” Lewis said, smiling.
Uncle Henry didn’t wear a smile. His face was stoic, and he held out his hand. “Give me the keys.”
Lewis placed the ring of keys in Uncle Henry’s hand.
“I’m sorry about what happened with—”
“Don’t,” Uncle Henry said. “It’s not my responsibility to clean up the mess you two made.”
“But—”
“I tried to help the two of you, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where it’s gotten my sister. She has nothing, and her son is God knows where.”
Lewis turned to Moms, who was wiping tears from her face now with a handkerchief.
“My nephew is no longer welcome in my home, so neither are you,” Uncle Henry said. “You can sleep in the garage tonight if you want. But after that, I never want to see you again.”
52
Daphanie walked into a dimly lit restaurant on South Wabash. A funky blend of techno and jazz played softly through the establishment. Because of the late hour, there were only a handful of couples at the tables. The bar area was still filled with single men, some of whom glanced Daphanie’s way as she walked past them looking for Trevor.
Spotting him at the end of the bar beside an empty seat, she walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. Trevor smiled, stood up, gave Daphanie a polite hug and peck on the cheek.
“How are you? You look great.”
“I’m fine,” Daphanie said, sitting.
A dirty-blond bartender was already standing before her, laying a napkin down. “What can I get you?” she asked.
Daphanie wanted a drink, a stiff one, considering what she was here to do. But she was pregnant.
“A Sprite with lemon, please,” she said.
“I see you’re already getting into the mother-to-be lifestyle. I like that.”
“Yeah,” Daphanie said, trying to ignore the comment. She lift ed the glass of Sprite the bartender placed in front of her and took a long sip from the straw.
“I had to tell my wife I was playing cards with the guys. She looked at me funny, but I think she believed me. So why did you want to meet?”
Setting her glass down, she looked Trevor in the eyes. He looked so full of hope. This was the happiest she had ever seen him. She was giving him what he had always wanted, but she didn’t want him. She wanted Nate.
“Trevor, I did some calculating,” Daphanie said, lowering her voice, hoping the music would keep what she was saying out of the ears of the guys sitting on the stools beside her. “I’m sorry to say this, but the baby isn’t yours.”
Trevor looked shocked, then saddened, then pissed. His eyes narrowed on Daphanie as he leaned in and said, “No. That’s not true. You said it was mine. You were sure.”
“It’s not, Trevor.”
“Then whose?”
“The man I was dating before you. It’s Nate’s baby.”
“No,” Trevor said, shaking his head. He lifted his glass and downed the last of the brown liquor that sat before him. He snapped at the bartender, “Give me another.” Then he turned back to Daphanie and said, “Bullshit. I don’t believe you. That’s my baby you’re carrying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“That’s my fucking baby!” Trevor yelled.
“Shhhh,” Daphanie said. This was the reason she had picked a public spot to meet instead of her place. She didn’t need Trevor throwing a tantrum. “Can you keep this our business, and not include the entire fucking bar?”
“Why are you doing this, Daphanie? I’m sorry that guy broke your heart. But he doesn’t want you. Trapping him by saying—”
“Fuck you, Trevor. I don’t have to trap anyone,” Daphanie said, standing from her stool, digging in her purse, and tossing a five-dollar bill on the bar. “You should feel lucky. You don’t have to take this to your wife. You’re off the hook now.”
She turned to go. Trevor grabbed her tight
by her arm.
“Let me the fuck go!” Daphanie said.
“I don’t want to be off the hook. I want my baby. It’s mine, and I’m not letting you get away with this!”
“You don’t have a choice,” Daphanie said. “Now let me go, or so help me God, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Trevor held her for a second longer, then released her. She walked quickly out of the restaurant.
53
Needing to get out, Nate called Abbey over to watch Layla. Half an hour later, Nate was finishing his first scotch on the rocks when Tim walked up and had a seat next to him at the Omni Hotel bar.
“What was so urgent about meeting you out here tonight?” Tim said. “And why are you drinking? That can’t be good for—”
“What are you having?” Nate asked Tim, while looking at the bartender standing in front of him.
“Seven Up,” Tim said.
“He’ll have a Jack and Coke,” Nate told the bartender. “And I’ll have another one of these. Double it up this time.”
“Nate, what’s going on? Did you hear anything else about Monica?”
“Her condition is the same,” Nate said, staring at his reflection in the mirror that sat behind all the bottles of liquor.
“Then why are we here?”
The bartender returned, setting both drinks down on cardboard coasters. Nate grabbed his drink, held it up to his face.
“Pick up your drink, little brother.”
Tim did as he was told.
“A toast,” Nate said.
“To what?”
“I’m having a baby,” Nate said unceremoniously, bringing the glass to his lips, then taking two long gulps.
“What?”
“Take a drink, Tim, and then I’ll tell you.”
Tim took a sip of his drink, then set the glass down. “What? Who?”
“It’s Daphanie. She told me a little while ago. We had been trying off and on while we were together, but neither of us figured anything would come from it. And now …” Nate couldn’t help cracking the slightest smile.
“And you seem happy. Your wife is in a coma, your son has been kidnapped, and you fucking seem happy about this.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” Nate said, turning to face Tim on his stool. “All that shit you just mentioned is tearing my life to pieces. I can’t be happy about getting news regarding something I wanted all my life?”
Tim was quiet. He sipped from his drink again. “I’m sorry. How did she feel about you telling her she had to get an abortion?”
“I didn’t tell her that, and I’m not going to,” Nate said.
“And you’re going to do what, Nate? Monica is in a coma, and Nathaniel is God knows where!”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I want to get my son back?”
Tim didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, he said, “And what about Monica?”
“Will she understand this?” Nate said. “Will she accept it?”
“Will she have to?” Nate stared hard at his brother.
“It’s what I’ve wanted all my life. You know that. Sometimes I think it’s the biggest reason that I married Monica. And her not being able to conceive is the reason we got divorced. I have it now, and I’m supposed to throw it away?”
“I don’t know, Nate. Just respect the fact that you said you were going to marry her again, that you two have a child, a beautiful future together, if you just don’t fuck it up. So considering all that, what are you going to do about this?”
Nate swallowed the last half of his second drink, wincing at its strength. He set the glass down hard on the bar, turned to Tim, and said, “I don’t know.” He grabbed his keys off the bar and stood. “Come by and pick up Layla tomorrow if you don’t mind. I have some things I need to take care of.”
54
Last night after Joni saw Freddy’s face on TV, after he had shaved off all his hair, Freddy had had no choice but to tell her everything. After his twenty-minute admission, Joni’s face had been blank.
“And you brought that here?”
“I told you I was in trouble.”
“You ain’t say that kinda trouble. What the fuck, Freddy?” Joni said, jumping up, pacing around the room. “Anybody know you’re here?”
“I ain’t crazy.”
“You crazy enough to try to kill somebody.” That remark had stung Freddy, and Joni had to have known that.
“Fuck it, Joni. Want me to leave?”
Joni didn’t respond.
“I said, do you want me to leave?”
“Do what the fuck you want, Freddy!”
They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. It was late in the night, and only now did a soft knock come at his door. Joni opened the door a bit.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Talk,” Freddy said, not looking at her.
“In my room, Freddy,” Joni said, leaving the door standing open, then walking away.
Freddy got up and went to Joni’s room. When he entered, she was standing, staring at him. She walked over to him, threw her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry about what I said. You told me why you shot that man. He was the reason your baby died, the reason you and your mother lost your home. You’re going through hell right now, and I should’ve been more understanding.”
Freddy didn’t respond. He stared away from Joni as she looked in his face.
“Freddy?”
“What?” he said, finally eyeing her.
“I understand why you did it. It was wrong, but I understand.” Joni placed her palm to the side of Freddy’s face. “You can get through this, and I can help you if you want. But you have to want me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t kept secret how I still feel about you, and I know you loved me once.”
“Joni—” Freddy said, attempting to remove her hands from around his neck.
“I said you loved me once. But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen again, does it?” she said, shyly tilting her face up to give Freddy a peck on the lips.
“Joni, I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“You came here for a reason. You trust me. You trust me with that boy, with your secret, but for me to commit to you, to have your back all the way, I need to know we’re gonna be together.”
Joni kissed him again. This time a little longer. Freddy relaxed, allowed her to.
“You don’t miss me? You don’t miss this?” Joni said, pressing her palm to the front of his pants. She felt him growing. “It feels like you do. Show me, Freddy.”
It was a bad idea. Nothing good could come from what was already happening. But how much worse can things get? Freddy thought. He was lonely, unloved, and love was what he felt he needed most now.
Freddy pressed his lips against Joni’s, kissed her hard. He lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to bed.
55
The next morning, Lewis stood outside Uncle Henry’s house, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Hello,” Daphanie said, answering his call.
“Daphanie, it’s Lewis. I think I’m gonna need a favor.”
Half an hour later, Daphanie opened the door to her loft and walked in. Lewis followed her, looking around as he closed the door behind him.
“Lewis, come here,” Daphanie said from across the living room.
Lewis followed her down a hallway. She opened a door and clicked on the light in a medium-sized room. There was a bed, a nightstand, and a flat-screen television on top of a dresser.
“Will this do?” Daphanie said, walking in.
Lewis felt ashamed.
“If there was anywhere else I could go—”
“It’s okay, Lewis. I understand. We’re a team for the moment, remember?” Daphanie smiled. “Now, will this suit you?”
“Yeah,” Lewis said, lowering himself to the edge of the bed.
> 56
It was approaching noon and Freddy was alone, turning over in Joni’s bed. Last night had been better than expected. He hadn’t made love to Joni in years, and he had forgotten how good it was—how good she was to him.
If Freddy had ever questioned whether Joni loved him or not, after her actions last night he was now certain.
They’d made love three times, and judging by the way she held him, kissed him, took him in, there was no doubt about how she felt. After the second time, Joni quickly rolled over on her side, away from Freddy.
He turned, too, and leaned over her shoulder to see her face. “You okay?”
He could tell she was crying.
“I don’t wanna be by myself anymore, Freddy. If you don’t want to be with me, then you should leave right now. Maybe that’d be best.”
Freddy rolled onto his back. He didn’t want to make this decision, not now. But what else did he have going on? Who else wanted him? He had loved Joni once. He knew he could love her again. The only reason he was probably having trouble now was because he was still stinging over losing Kia.
He rolled back up on his elbow, kissed Joni’s shoulder softly. “I ain’t going nowhere. I don’t wanna be alone no more, either.”
They made love again. Freddy fell asleep right afterward, and didn’t wake up till a moment ago. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He was actually smiling. Did it take all that he had gone through—losing his mom’s home, his girlfriend, his baby, and shooting that bastard Mr. Kenny—to find out that he should’ve been with Joni all along? He wasn’t sure, but that’s how things had turned out, and he was happy with that. But he knew they couldn’t stay here. With his picture splashed all over the place by now, they had to run.
Freddy had no plan. But he would think of one, and he hoped Joni would be down with it.
A knock came at the front door downstairs.
Freddy ignored it. Joni would get it, he told himself.
After a moment, the knocking came again. And a moment later, again. By then Freddy was dressed. He went down the hall to his room and pulled the gun out from under the mattress.