“Can’t you study here?”
“I left my notes home.” He walked around the bed and kissed her on the cheek.
“Is that all I get?” Janelle puckered her lips and Tariq had to avert his gaze. With her balloon-sized face, it wasn’t a pleasant sight.
He quickly kissed her on the lips and then he kissed her stomach and told the baby, “See you later, lil’ man.”
“Keep callin’ him that. You gonna get your feelings hurt when it turns out to be a girl.”
“I can adapt.” He kissed her stomach again, “See you later, lil’ lady.” He flashed Janelle a big smile and she returned it, watching him leave with adoring eyes.
How had the tables turned, Tariq wondered? He believed he still loved Janelle, but the passion was no longer there. He recalled the first time he defied her and wore boxers on a designated panty day. She did the panty check from bed, but was feeling too sick to muster up any rage.
In a weak voice, she’d said, “Just because I’m lying up in this bed doesn’t mean you can disobey my rules.” But she knew as well as Tariq that things were not the same.
The one secret that Tariq kept from Janelle was that he and Kapri were good friends. Platonic friends. But he’d led Janelle to believe that his only words to Kapri were hi and ’bye. They still communicated at work and now that Janelle was laid up, they talked at length after work and even studied together at Kapri’s home.
One day at work he’d confided to Kapri about Janelle’s pregnancy and that his relationship with his brother had become strained. He didn’t tell Kapri the full extent of his relationship with Janelle, yet he could tell that she didn’t approve of the iron-clad grip Janelle had on him. No one understood.
“I don’t know, Tariq,” Kapri said, pausing to choose her words. “Your relationship with Janelle seems somewhat—abusive.”
“Abusive!” Tariq fell out laughing. “Abused people are sad and depressed. I’m walking on cloud nine—so how can you even think I’m abused?”
Now, after leaving Janelle home in bed, Tariq bounded up the steps to Kapri’s house. Kapri answered his knock on the door.
“I was gonna study without you if you didn’t hurry up,” she informed him, rolling her eyes and pretending she had an attitude.
Kapri made popcorn and poured two tall glasses of iced tea. Tariq felt at peace in the comfortable kitchen as he and Kapri quietly studied their Black History notes.
“Okay, ready?” Kapri asked, closing her folder.
“Not yet.”
“Too bad, you were supposed to get here at seven and nobody told you to come dragging in at nine-fifteen. I’m getting tired.”
“All right, Kapri. I was late; I was wrong. Now can we get started?”
Kapri smiled and cleared her throat. I’ll ask you a question first and then you ask me. We’ll rotate. Okay?”
“Cool.”
“Okay. Who is the first African-American world renowned opera singer who performed at the White House?”
Tariq searched the ceiling for the answer.
“Here’s a clue…she’s from Philly.”
He gave her a blank stare.
“Tariq, you should know this.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he speculated, “Um…Mahalia Jackson?”
Kapri threw a kernel of popcorn at Tariq. “I didn’t say anything about a gospel singer. You’re obviously not ready for the test. The first black opera singer who performed at the White House is Marian Anderson, born and bred right here. Another reason for Philadelphia pride.”
“All right. I blew that one. Okay, let’s see how much you know. What famous world leader spent twenty-seven years in prison?”
“Nelson Mandela.”
“You’re sharp, girl. I need to study with you all the time.”
“And you’re obviously not prepared for this test,” she admonished.
“I’ll study some more at home.”
“Tariq. If you don’t start applying yourself, you’re gonna be working at Mickey D’s for the rest of your life.”
“Yes, teacher,” Tariq said jokingly as he started stuffing his notebooks and folders into his book bag.
“I’m serious. You’re going to be a father soon and that’s more reason to start looking toward the future. Have you thought about college or even a trade school? High school doesn’t prepare you for any job that would support a family, I hope you realize that. Another thing, Tariq,” Kapri said, her tone softer as she eased up on the subject. “I know you think Janelle is looking out for you, but sometimes I wonder if she’s deliberately trying to keep you down.”
Tariq yanked the zipper on his book bag. With a confrontational arched brow, he asked, “Why would she try to keep me down? Before I had Janelle I didn’t have anything.”
“And what do you have now?”
“A family,” he said with finality as he zipped his book bag. “See you tomorrow at school.”
As he walked home, snowflakes began to fall. The sky was very dark and he felt very alone. What would his life have been like if his mother had lived? Kapri had given him something to think about. What did the future hold for him, he wondered? It wasn’t a good time to ponder the issue; it was all about Janelle right now. She needed him and it would infuriate her if he started talking about bettering himself at a time like this. If he mentioned going to trade school, he knew she’d flip and probably start to cry. What about me and the baby; you can’t change your routine at a time like this. Lately, she’d become very moody and everything made her cry. No, he couldn’t change the game plan. At least not right now.
His feelings for Janelle were confusing enough. His dick was constantly erect. He seemed to be in a constant state of arousal, except when he was around Janelle.
She’d told him that just because her pussy was out of commission didn’t mean she couldn’t give him head. “Come here, Tariq. Let me suck it so you won’t think you have to go out there and get it somewhere else.” But one look at her swollen face, fingers, feet, and toes and his dick went soft. He really didn’t want any head. Not from her.
He found himself looking at the girls at school, the video dancers on BET and MTV. He’d started checking out Kapri’s cute little butt, which was sick considering Kapri was his one and only friend.
Admittedly, Tariq was in bad shape. He probably had a serious case of blue balls, but he’d just have to ride it out until after the baby was born.
Hopefully, after giving birth, Janelle would return to her normal strong self. He wasn’t accustomed to whiny, helpless Janelle. As it stood right now, he didn’t feel any passion for her, which both scared him and filled him with shame.
CHAPTER 21
Restless and bored with being cooped up in Janelle’s bedroom, Tariq spent most of his time at work or hanging out with Kapri. Their relationship, though merely platonic, was still conducted behind Janelle’s back.
One of their coworkers at McDonald’s had thought it her civic duty to call Janelle and inform her that something was “going on” between Tariq and Kapri.
“So it’s you and Kapri now? Is that why you never want to be here anymore?” Janelle accused, her voice a scratchy whine.
“Me and Kapri are just friends,” Tariq was weary of Janelle’s insecurities, but he managed to inject patience into his tone.
“But I told you I didn’t want you hanging around with her; she’s just trying to get inside your pants.”
Tariq sighed. Audibly. Perhaps it was because he was getting older. Maybe it was because he knew Shane would be home soon, or maybe it was simply human nature that he would choose a time when Janelle was in a weakened condition to begin to express irritation.
Their relationship was based on Janelle being a dominant woman who expected Tariq to submit to rigid rules of behavior. But now his oppressor was emotionally fragile and physically weak. The power in the relationship had inadvertently shifted to Tariq.
“I told you me and Kapri are just friends!” he shouted
this time. “Stop acting all jealous over nothing. You can’t tell me who to be with no more.”
At first, Janelle stared at him in startled bewilderment. But when Tariq stood up as if he were about to leave, Janelle narrowed her eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To work!” he said tersely.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Using her palm for leverage, Janelle lifted herself off the bed, but too weak to stand, she flopped back down. Frustrated, she gave in to tears. “Please, Tariq. Don’t leave me,” she pleaded, surrendering her power to Tariq.
Tariq ignored her sobs and pleas for him to stay. She was being ridiculous; she knew he had to go to work. Tariq stormed out the bedroom, his angry footsteps pounded down the stairs. Finally, there was the sound of the slamming front door.
In a bout of crying that lasted hours, Janelle, only seven months pregnant, worked herself into contractions.
“Did I tell you I’m turning in my resignation next week?” Kapri asked Tariq as they worked side-by-side at the cash registers.
“No, you didn’t mention it. Why are you quitting?” He took Kapri’s announcement personally; it felt like he was being rejected.
“It’s time to move on. My dad got me a summer job as receptionist at an architecture firm downtown on John F. Kennedy Boulevard. One of his friends works in construction at one of the sites. My dad said working at a prestigious firm will look good on my resume.”
Tariq didn’t have a resume and saw no need to have one. He wasn’t ambitious and was content working at McDonald’s. “When are you leaving?”
“I’m supposed to give two weeks’ notice, but I’m quitting tomorrow after I pick up my check. I mean, think about it. What can they take from me? I’m just a part-time worker so they can’t take away any benefits. At my new job, starting next month, I’ll be working full time and I’ll get full benefits.”
Tariq was ashamed that he didn’t know what Kapri was talking about. “What kind of benefits?” he asked.
“Vacation, sick days, paid holidays, I’ll be in their credit union.”
“What’s a credit union?”
“Let’s say I wanted to buy a car.”
“Uh huh,” Tariq said with great interest. He’d never even imagined owning a car.
“Well, the credit union would pay for the car and take a portion of my paycheck. I wouldn’t even have to worry about paying the bill, the payment would come right off the top.”
“Dag, Kapri. You’re the bomb!” Tariq said in admiration. “Do you think you can get me in there?”
“I’ll be on probation for the first three months, so I won’t be able to help you out. But as soon as my probationary period is over, I’ll be keeping an eye out. When a job opens up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Tariq looked wistful. “I wonder what kind of job I could do?”
“You could be an engineer. I don’t think I want to be a court stenographer anymore. I may go to college to become an engineer. We could go to college together,” Kapri suggested, brightly.
“Naw, after graduation I’m through with school. I never liked it and I’m not smart like you.”
“Don’t say that, Tariq; all you have to do is apply yourself. You let Janelle take up all…”
Tariq gave her a look, which caused Kapri’s voice to trail off. The subject of Janelle was off limits. She was going to be the mother of his child and his wife, and despite their current problems, his loyalty remained.
The call came while Tariq was taking his first fifteen-minute-break. He rushed past Kapri with his book bag slung over his shoulder. “Tell Ms. Turner I had to go; Janelle had the baby. It’s a boy!”
He was moving so fast, he didn’t even hear Kapri yell, “Congratulations!”
Waiting for the bus that would take him to the hospital to see his baby son was excruciating torture. He thought about Kapri’s new job and wished he had a job that offered credit to purchase a car. Kapri really had him thinking and now that he was a father, he was going to have to try to better himself.
Tariq Batista, Jr. was a beautiful child. He only weighed three and a half pounds, but he was perfectly healthy with everything intact and possessed all his fingers and toes. Janelle came home two days later, but the baby had to stay until he gained more weight.
Tariq stopped going to class and set up camp in the hospital. Janelle was still sickly and was at home confined to the bed.
In the hospital Tariq bonded with his son, held him, changed his diaper, and fed him a bottle filled with Janelle’s breast milk. He tried to keep his son in the room with him for as long as the nurses allowed.
“I love you, Lil’ Man. I’m gonna make sure you have something I never had. A real family. A mother and a father you can call your own. Me and your mommy…well, we’re going through something right now, but we’re gonna have to work it out for you. I love her, man, but she can be a trip.” Tariq laughed. “You’ll see.”
He kissed his son’s nose and grinned at the miniature version of himself.
“I’m giving you my word of honor, Lil’ Man. I ain’t never gonna leave you.”
The money Janelle had been saving enabled them to move into their own apartment when the baby came home two months later. The apartment was on Rittenhouse Street in Mount Airy and the rent wasn’t cheap.
Janelle had dual reasons for refusing to return to work. She didn’t trust leaving the baby with strangers in a day care center; and she was breastfeeding with no idea when she’d be willing to wean the baby. So she remained at home, uncertain if she’d ever be willing to place her precious infant in, as far as she was concerned, incompetent and uncaring hands. Then there was their money situation. They still had some savings, but the money was dwindling fast. If she didn’t contribute to the household funds soon, they’d be saddled with debt and on the brink of collapse. It gave her a headache to think about not being able to meet their financial commitments.
Tariq had started working double shifts at McDonald’s, trying to help pay the rent and other bills. He often complained that he needed a third job just to pay for the baby’s disposable diapers. Janelle wouldn’t buy the cheap generic brand; the cheap diapers gave the baby a rash.
Their life together had become bittersweet. They had serious money troubles, but were blessed with a healthy child they both adored.
Janelle had already been given the green light by her doctor when she went for her six-week examination, but for some reason their sex life still wasn’t up to par. Tariq was so tired from working around the clock, he didn’t seem to mind the absence of sex During her difficult pregnancy, she knew that Tariq had discovered that masturbating in the shower provided quick relief.
One day Janelle was feeding the baby when the phone rang. “Hello.”
“Yo, where’s my little brother at?”
“Who’s this?” She knew it was Shane, but was stalling while she gathered her thoughts, figuring out how to prevent him from speaking to Tariq.
“Who you think it is? How many brothers does Tariq have?”
“How’d you get the number? We’ve only been here a few weeks?”
“I called your mom’s crib; she gave me the number. Yo, Janelle…me and Tariq are twins. Jail was the only thing that could keep us apart. You would have never got your hooks into him if I had his back like I was supposed to. Yo, I don’t like you and you don’t like me—that’s a fact. But we gonna have to fake it for Tariq’s sake. Feel me?”
Janelle sighed. She absolutely despised Shane, but was in no shape to try to battle with him. Untreated and undetected postpartum blues had her off balance, depressed, and too weak to put up a vigorous fight.
“Now where’s my little brother?”
“He’s at work.” She paused for a second. “Aren’t you going to ask how your nephew’s doing? Oh, that’s right, I forgot…you’re just totally rude,” she added sarcastically. She couldn’t conceal her distaste for Shane.
“Yo, I ain’t gotta ask you s
hit,” Shane snarled. “I’ll check on my nephew when I speak to Tariq.” Shane hung up.
Pacing briskly with the baby in her arms, Janelle sensed trouble hovering over her home. The baby began to fret; she rocked him anxiously, wanting him to settle down so she could concentrate on the massive task of figuring out how to prevent Shane from connecting with Tariq. She had to prevent Shane from destroying their lives.
CHAPTER 22
As Tariq ate dinner, Janelle gently rocked the baby. The mood was tranquil. Then the sudden ring of the telephone broke the serenity. Sensing bad news on the other end of the phone, Janelle cradled the baby tightly and shot Tariq a look of alarm. She hadn’t told him that his brother had gotten released from Barney Hills and was back in town. Agitated, Janelle started rocking the baby fast.
Tariq strode from the kitchen to the living room and picked up the phone. “Yeah,” he said, still chewing a piece of baked chicken.
“This is the front desk, you have a visitor-Shane Batista. Should I send him up?”
Tariq almost choked on the chicken. “Yeah, send him up,” Tariq said, grinning from ear to ear. “Shane is home!” he said to Janelle and then ran out of the apartment and down the hall to the elevator.
A few minutes later, Janelle heard the whooping and hollering though their apartment was quite a distance from the elevator. As the voices grew closer, she also heard the distinct voice of a female.
Tariq, Shane, and two other shady characters, a thug and a hot-to-trot ride-or-die-chick, entered the apartment. Janelle bristled.
“Janelle, you already met Shane. This is Shane’s friend Brick and his girl, Misty.”
“Hi, have a seat,” Janelle mumbled in a defeated tone.
“Ooo. Can I hold the baby?” the young woman named Misty asked. Janelle noted that Misty, unreasonably pretty, was dressed in designer everything from her Von Dutch cap down to her Von Dutch sneakers. Long, dark-brown hair trailed down her back. She had a cute little body and was far too attractive to be in Tariq’s presence while Janelle was in her current incapacitated condition.
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