So You Call Yourself a Man

by Carl Weber

  Brent finally nodded as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. “Ohhh, yeah, I remember her. The girl from your UPS route, the one you almost left Cathy for, right?”

  “Mm-hmmm, that’s her. But I wasn’t going to leave Cathy for her or anyone else.”

  “No, but you’re about to leave your best friend’s bachelor party to babysit her kid, aren’t you?” I asked in disgust. “You just couldn’t resist that big ol’ booty, could you?”

  “Why are you always classifying women by their asses?” Damn, ol’ boy had it pretty bad. He was even defending her honor.

  “Some people remember faces, James. I remember asses. Now stop trying to change the subject. You messin’ with her again, aren’t you?”

  “Nah, I ain’t messing with her, Sonny.” James had a little attitude to his voice now. “But she says I’m her baby’s daddy.”

  There was a brief, shocked silence as his words registered.

  “What did you say?” Brent asked, the disbelief in his voice and on his face.

  “I said, she says I’m her baby’s daddy.”

  “Oh, shit,” I mumbled, clearing my throat as I sat back in my chair. There was another moment of painful silence before Brent and I asked, “Are you?” in unison.

  James shrugged his shoulders, giving us the lamest answer we could possibly hear. “I really don’t know.”

  I jumped out of my seat, pointing my finger in his face. “What you mean you don’t know? How the fuck you don’t know? Did you fuck her without a raincoat?”

  All he did was nod, and I went off on him again.

  “Oh, my God! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was about two seconds away from putting my foot in his ass.

  “Sit down, Sonny,” Brent ordered. “Let the brother explain.”

  “Explain! There ain’t no explanation for this, Brent!”

  “I said, let the man explain. Other people are trying to enjoy the game.”

  I looked around and everyone in our section was staring at me. So I did as Brent asked, folding my arms and staring angrily at James. I was disappointed in him, really disappointed. He was the one who always had his shit together.

  “You’re right, Sonny. I should have never slept with her without a condom, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. I just have to deal with the consequences now.”

  “So, did you have some type of blood test or something?” Brent asked.

  “Nah, I asked her for a blood test, but she threatened to tell Cathy about the baby if I pushed the issue.”

  I unfolded my arms. “That’s ’cause the baby ain’t yours. Can’t you see she’s trying to trap you? That’s why she don’t want you to have a blood test. That’s what these young girls do.” I was so heated, you would have thought she said it was my baby.

  “Yeah, but what am I supposed to do about it? She told me if I don’t pay her child support and babysit, she’s gonna go to Cathy.”

  “Fuck it. Let her tell Cathy. But I wouldn’t give that bitch shit!” I told him adamantly.

  “He can’t do that and you know it, Sonny.” Brent chimed in like he was Johnnie Cochran defending his client.

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because Cathy will divorce me,” James said, “the same way your wife would divorce you if you showed up with a baby by some other woman.” Yeah, right, I thought to myself. My wife’s not going to divorce me if I come home with a child out of wedlock—she’s going to castrate me.

  “But that baby ain’t yours, man,” I protested.

  Brent shook his head. “Have you listened to a word the man’s said? He’s not sure if he’s the father himself, so why should you be?” I didn’t have an answer for that.

  “Look, you guys enjoy the game and Hooters,” James said with finality. “I gotta go babysit.”

  “Keep your head up, bro. We’re gonna figure a way outta this for you, man,” I told him with certainty.

  “The only way out of this is to keep this crazy bitch happy so she doesn’t go bothering my wife. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Brent grabbed his arm. “The only way out of this is to put your faith in God and pray on this.”

  James looked him in the face and said, “I’ve been praying, Brent. I’m just waiting for God to answer my prayers.”

  Brent

  “I love you, Mr. Williams.”

  “I love you more, Ms. Hendy…I mean, Mrs. Williams.” I smiled as I said it. I was sure my bride-to-be was smiling.

  We’d been talking on the phone for about twenty minutes. I was lying on my living room sofa about to take a shower, change into my pajamas, and go to bed in anticipation of tomorrow’s big event. After the game, I’d gone to Hooters with Sonny at James’s request, but I still couldn’t believe he actually left the game to babysit a kid he wasn’t even sure was his. Lord, I hoped Cathy never found out about this. Not having James around kinda spoiled the rest of the evening for Sonny and me. We didn’t even stay fifteen minutes at Hooters before deciding to leave. When I got home, I prayed, then I called Alison to say good night.

  “Mrs. Williams. Lord knows I love the sound of that,” Alison said. So did I. It was hard to believe, but this time tomorrow we’d be on our honeymoon on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. We were planning on trying to have a baby right away. Both Alison and I loved kids, and we both wanted at least two. I wanted to be a dad more than anything in the world.

  “Me too. I can’t wait to show you off as my wife.”

  Alison was quiet for a moment before she said, “Brent? Can I ask you something?” Her tone lost its excitement.

  “Sure, baby. What is it?” I sat up.

  She never asked a question. It was more like a statement, a confusing statement at that. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if you wanna back out.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear, staring at it before resting it back against my head. “Huh? What are you trying to say?”

  “I wanna know if you really wanna marry me. Are you sure you’re not just doing this because you feel sorry for me?”

  How could she be questioning my love? Maybe she was just having last-minute jitters, but her comment caught me off guard and left me feeling insulted. “Why would you ask me that? You know I love you, Alison. Have you ever even seen me look at another woman?”

  “No, but I see the way they look at you. They all want you, Brent, even the married ones. How long are you going to want me, with all of them waiting in the wings for us to fail?”

  “Until death do us part,” I answered, confused by her sudden lack of faith in me.

  “I hope so, Brent, because sometimes I think that you could do better. That you’re just settling with me, and I don’t want you to settle.”

  “I’m not settling, Alison. I love you.”

  “But why? Why me? I’m black as hell, I’m damn near forty, and I weigh over two hundred fifty pounds.” Her curse caught me by surprise. “The only thing I got going for me is my Indian hair.”

  “You’re the woman I fell in love with, so all the rest of them don’t matter. And I don’t give a darn if you weigh two thousand pounds. I love you, Alison, for the woman you are inside. I don’t care about that superficial stuff. I want you to be my wife.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear,” she answered, sounding more like herself again. “’Cause once we walk down that aisle, I’m never giving you up. And I mean never.”

  “I don’t want you to give me up. Alison, you’re the woman I wanna grow old with.”

  She let out a thankful sigh. “I love you too, Brent, more than anything in the world.”

  “Good, then we still have a date to meet at the altar tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be there,” she assured me.

  We chatted for a few minutes longer, then said our final good night before hanging up. I took a shower and got ready for bed. I thought about calling James to see how things were going with the babysitting, but before I got to the phone
, there was a loud knock on my door. I jumped out of bed.

  “Who is it?” I asked as I went to the door.

  There was no answer, so I pulled back the curtain on the window beside the door. I did a double take, letting go of the curtain when a figure I recognized turned toward me. There was another knock on the door, and this time I opened it with a sense of excitement and fear.

  Jackie Moss, my church’s sexy organist, walked into my house. There was no question in my mind that Jackie was intoxicated, but even drunk, Jackie’s presence had a way of warming my heart and chilling my soul. It had been obvious from the first time we met that there was a mutual attraction between us. I’ve got this thing for green eyes, and Jackie’s were the greenest I’d ever seen.

  “Jackie, what are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but stare.

  Ignoring my question, Jackie strolled over to my living room bar, taking out two glasses and filling them with Hennessy, then offering me one. It almost fell to the floor in our exchange.

  “You’re drunk?”

  “Uh-huh. I wouldn’t be here unless I was.”

  “So, why are you here?” I asked again.

  Jackie gulped down the entire glass of Hennessy, giving me a look that told me everything I needed to know and more. “I came here to get you to cancel this ridiculous wedding. You can’t marry fat-ass Alison Hendy.”

  “Why?” I snapped, not happy about the insult to Alison, “because you’re jealous?”

  Jackie laughed. “Whether I’m jealous or not doesn’t matter. The whole congregation is laughing at you, Brent.”

  “So, let them laugh. What are they going to say when Alison and I are still together forty years from now?”

  Jackie frowned. “Brent, you’re the most handsome man in the church. People like you and I aren’t supposed to get married.”

  “How can you say that? You’re married.”

  Jackie placed the glass back on the bar and approached me. “That’s exactly why I’m telling you that you shouldn’t. You don’t really love her.”

  “I do love her, Jackie. She’s everything I ever wanted in a woman.”

  “Please. Then why are you looking at me that way? You can’t even take your eyes off me. You know it’s me you really want.”

  I tried to look away, but the truth is the truth. I did want Jackie. I’d never met anyone so attractive, so perfect, but my mother always warned me that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. In Jackie’s case, Momma’s words rang truer than ever, because my true soul mate was already married—to a prominent member of our church. In another place and another time, our fates probably would have been different. I’m sure it was the Lord who intervened and forced First Lady Wilson into introducing me to my bride-to-be, Alison. If she hadn’t, Jackie and I would have probably started an affair that would have rocked the church. And that was something I would never do.

  “Sometimes what you want isn’t necessarily what you need,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I will not give in to lust. I love Alison, and I’m going to marry her.”

  “You don’t love her. Not the way you could love me.” Jackie stepped up and kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. My entire body began to tingle and blood was rushing to places it shouldn’t have been. I was so turned on it took everything I had to pull myself away.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Jackie. I do love her. Maybe not in the physical sense like you’re offering, but in an emotional and spiritual sense that will last a lifetime. Now, I think you should leave.”

  Jackie grinned at me wickedly. “Do you really want me to leave, Brent?”

  I was hesitant, but I nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll leave. But not before I give you your wedding present.”

  “What wedding present?”

  “This one.”

  Before I could respond, Jackie’s lips were pressed against mine and a warm, Hennessy-flavored tongue parted my lips and began to explore my mouth. The alcohol taste didn’t bother me at all, and we kissed passionately for a good ten seconds. This time, I couldn’t hold myself back. Believe it or not, it was Jackie who ended our kiss abruptly with a grin. “Now, that’s a present I’m sure you’ll carry with you throughout your marriage. Feel free to share it with your new wife anytime you like. I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding.”

  And on that note, Jackie strode toward the door and walked out.

  James

  It was late and I was watching Ving Rhames play the new Kojak when my cell phone rang. The caller ID had my home phone number on it, and I immediately turned the sound up and switched the TV from Kojak to BET, where music videos were playing. I was hoping to give my wife the impression I was at a strip club. I know what you’re thinking. Why the hell would I want my wife to think I was in a strip club? Well, it’s a hell of a lot better than telling her that I was at my former mistress’s house babysitting the son she said was mine.

  “Hello?” I raised my voice, trying to speak louder than the 50 Cent video on the TV.

  “James, honey, it’s me!” she yelled back to make sure I heard her.

  “Hun, you’re gonna have to speak up. I can barely hear you with this loud-ass music.”

  “What time are you coming home?”

  “Three, four, depending on if we decide to go to a diner. We just got to the club about an hour ago. We’re not doing anything, Cathy, just looking, honest.”

  “I know. I’m not tryin’ to bitch. I just wanted you to wake me up when you come home.”

  “Wake you up for what?” I didn’t like the sound of that. Cathy tried to act like she wasn’t, but my wife was a jealous woman…a very jealous woman. She was always snooping around my shit, checking my phone, my pockets, and my car. She never found anything because I wasn’t doing anything, but you’d be surprised by the coincidental shit that got me in trouble.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Come on, Cathy. What you gonna do, give me the sniff test again?” I laughed, but I was only half-joking.

  “No, baby, I’m gonna give you the hardness test, so be prepared to stick your plug in my socket. You got a problem with that?”

  A smile crept up on my face. No, I definitely didn’t have a problem with that. We hadn’t had sex since the night Michelle sprang the news on me about Marcus being my son, and I was in definite need of some stress relief.

  “No, ma’am. I don’t have a problem with that at all. Matter of fact, I’m about ready to blow a fuse right now.”

  “Well then, I’ll see you when you get home. Don’t forget to wake me up.” Now that’s what I was talking about. I couldn’t wait to get home.

  I hung up the phone and turned the TV down just as Marcus walked into the room, wearing a Pull-Up and dragging a blue stuffed bunny behind him. Believe it or not, this was the first time I’d seen him, other than a picture or the quick peek in his room when I arrived.

  On my way in, Michelle had rushed out the door to a waiting cab. “He’s asleep and he shouldn’t wake up before I get home around four, but if he does, take him to the bathroom then give him some juice in his Lion King sippy cup. He’ll go right back to sleep after that,” she said over her shoulder. “Oh, and the dog’s in the laundry room. Let him out in the backyard to do his business if he starts to whine.” Ain’t that a bitch? Not only was I babysitting, but she had me dogsitting too.

  “Mommy! Where’s my mommy?” Marcus was on the verge of tears.

  Suddenly, as I stared at him, a chill ran through my body. This had all just seemed like a bad dream, but now here was this kid, in the flesh, needing, wanting, and crying. Up until now, I’d pretty much convinced myself that there was the possibility that I was Marcus’s father, since I was at the scene of the crime, but not the probability, since I wasn’t the only one she was having sex with. I mean, damn, we’d only had sex without a condom that one time.

  Now that Marcus was standing in front of me, I finally got a good look at him and saw that there was some resemblance t
o me and my people. He wasn’t a dead ringer like my sons, James Jr. and Michael. They looked just like me. Ain’t no denying those two. Marcus, maybe he could be my son, but I still thought he looked more like the other guy Michelle was screwing. She’d admitted to me once while we were dating that she went raw-dog with her boyfriend Trent almost every time.

  Either way, I was in no position to stand up to Michelle and insist on a DNA test. Things at home were going too well between Cathy and me to take any chances. If there was the slightest chance he was my son, I didn’t need any drama, especially from Michelle. That girl would take the phrase “baby mama drama” to the next level.

  “What’s the matter, little man?” I tried to rub his head.

  He stared at me for a few seconds, obviously confused. The tears began to run down his face. “I want my mommmy!” he wailed.

  I took a deep breath because there was no bigger pain in the ass than a child who wanted his mother. I tried to warn Michelle of this before she left, but she wasn’t hearing me. She swore up and down that he’d sleep through the night and wouldn’t get up ’til daylight.

  “I know you want your mommy, but your mommy had to go to work. She’ll be home soon, okay?” I smiled at him, but he wasn’t going for it.

  “I want my mommmy! I want my mommmy! I want my mommyyyyy!” he screamed, each time louder than the first. He was about two seconds away from a full-blown meltdown, but I’d been through this same thing with my boys. I knew what to do. I was going to bribe him.

  “Hey, Marcus, you want a lollipop?” He shut up immediately, nodding his head, although tears were still running down his face. “Well, if you want a lollipop, then you gotta stop this crying, man.”

  He sucked back tears and wiped his face with his shirtless arm. I smiled, reaching in my pocket and pulling out three Tootsie Roll Pops I’d purchased on the way over for just such an occasion. Before I could even ask him which color he wanted, he grabbed the red one out of my hand, ripping off the waxed paper. I smiled as he shoved it into his mouth.