by Carl Weber
“I hear you. Look, just let them know that a sister needs a little time off for herself.”
“I will convey your message and make arrangements for your flight in the morning. Good night.”
“Yeah, you too.” I hung up the phone and finished getting dressed, determined to make the best of what little time I had. At least with my flight not leaving until the morning there was the possibility of hooking up tonight and getting laid.
Paris
3
“This shit just ain’t fair,” I whined to Rio as we sat down in the sandwich shop in Long Island Jewish Medical Center. We’d been waiting almost two hours already for London to give birth, and my own baby was kicking the shit out of me, reminding me it was time to eat.
“What ain’t fair?” Rio asked, scooping soup out of a bread bowl.
“That London’s having her baby before I’m having mine. We had the same damn due date.” I sighed, ripping open a second packet of mustard and spreading it on a baguette. “She’s always trying to outdo me in front of Daddy. I know she did that shit on purpose. She just wanted her baby to be older than mine.”
Rio laughed. “Girl, are you for real? Do you really think she went into labor in the middle of a board of directors meeting—while Mom was on the warpath, I might add—just to piss you off? You need to get over yourself.”
I replied quickly, “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a nurse, ain’t she? She probably figured out some way to induce labor before she even got to the meeting.”
“Why? Because that’s what you would do?”
My twin brother knew me and my methods well, I thought as I gave him a smirk.
“No! Girrrrl, you need to stop. You were not going to induce labor just to make sure you had your baby before London!”
“The hell I wasn’t. I was supposed to see the doctor tomorrow, but that sneaky bitch beat me to it. I know she did.”
Rio shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich. “You a damn shame, you know that? She did not do this on purpose. Not everyone is as calculating as you, Paris.”
I put down my food and stared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? I know you’re not taking her side. You’re supposed to be my twin.”
Not only was Rio my twin; he was like my best friend. Having a gay brother meant I could talk to him about anything that I would say to a girlfriend—and I mean anything. So, this hurt a little.
“Girl, I ain’t taking nobody’s side in this one. You’re my sisters and I love you both. You know that.”
“But you love me more, right?” I tilted my head and smiled coyly. I loved putting him on the spot.
He chuckled. “Yeah, you my twin, my other half. I got to love you more, but that don’t mean I don’t love London too.”
Satisfied, I picked up my sandwich and took a bite, savoring the strong, salty taste. I’d been craving mustard all day. “Oh my God. This is so good. You have got to try it.”
I lifted my food toward Rio’s face, but he backed away, waving his hand in front of his nose. “No, thanks. I don’t know how you can eat bread and mustard with no meat. That’s nasty if you ask me.”
“I’m pregnant, silly. I can eat just about anything if I’m in the mood. And this is so good.” I took another bite then lifted the sandwich toward his face again just to watch him squirm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman standing at the register purchasing a bag of M&Ms. I put down my bread and said, “Rio, you know I got a beef to pick with you, right?”
He sighed. “Oh, Lord. What I do now? I know this ain’t about that baby shower I gave you last week, ’cause I didn’t invite London. Mom did. Besides, everyone thought it was the bomb!”
“No, no, that was fabulous,” I said as I watched the woman leave the shop with her candy. “This ain’t about that. We got beef because you didn’t tell me about this new drug Orlando’s been working on. You should have told me about that a long time ago.”
Rio paused a second before he answered, but I couldn’t read his thoughts. “I’ve only known about it for about two weeks. And I didn’t tell you because I was sworn to secrecy until O ran all his tests and was ready to bring it to market.”
“You’ve known about this for two weeks and you didn’t tell me!” Now I was genuinely pissed. “I don’t give a damn if you were sworn to secrecy by Bishop TK Wilson himself. That don’t mean me; that means other people. You’re not supposed to shut me out. Ever.”
Rio leaned in a little with this earnest look on his face. “Look, I know this seems hard for you to comprehend, but I’m trying to build a relationship with my older brothers. I want them to trust me, Paris. Pop ain’t gonna be around forever. I want them to know that we’re a team and they can count on me.”
“I hear you, but you still wrong for that, Rio,” I said. His homosexuality had always put a little bit of a barrier between him and the rest of the men in the family, so I understood his desire to connect with them. Despite his explanation, though, I was still annoyed. “You know I wouldn’t tell anybody. We’re twins. There isn’t supposed to be any secrets between us, dammit. I tell you everything.”
“Don’t even go there. You don’t tell me everything,” he said, sounding a little annoyed himself.
“What haven’t I told you?” I challenged.
He put down his spoon and looked me dead in the eyes. “You still haven’t told me who your baby daddy is, have you?”
Not this shit again. There was a table between us, but it felt like he was all up in my face. I took a bite of my sandwich rather than answer his question.
“So, Miss I-tell-you-everything, why won’t you tell me if it’s Miguel or Trevor, huh?” he demanded.
I threw my sandwich back on the plate. “Because it’s none of your fucking business, that’s why, Rio! How many times I gotta tell you that?”
Rio leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied that he’d proven his point. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. You don’t tell me everything. You tell me what you want me to know.”
“What the hell does it matter which one it was? My baby ain’t got no father anyway, because both of them are dead. So, I’d appreciate it if you stop asking me that shit.” I stood up, disgusted by the whole conversation.
“Where are you going?” Rio asked.
“Upstairs to see if this heifer had her baby yet. In case you forgot, she’s the one with the real baby daddy issues.”
I left Rio with an attitude and headed back to the waiting area of the maternity ward, where I was surprisingly greeted by a roomful of grim faces. When Rio and I left for the restaurant, most of our family was leaning against each other trying to catch a nap until someone came out of the delivery room to tell us London’s baby was born. There was no sign of the doctor, but Harris was there, sitting between my mother and father. His face was so scrunched up it looked like he was in pain. My parents’ faces weren’t doing much better. From the looks of it, someone had just delivered some bad news, and I knew exactly what it had to be.
“Oh, shit! Don’t tell me London’s baby got straight hair and blue eyes?” There was a collective gasp from everyone in the room. Harris was the first to lift his head and turn toward me. His face was crimson and his eyes were sending daggers of hate directly through me, but his look was nothing in comparison to the look my parents were giving me—especially my mother.
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at these dramatic fools. I mean, what the hell was everyone being all sensitive about anyway? We’d all known there was the possibility that London’s baby might not be Harris’s. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was fucking that white boy Tony Dash around the same time the baby was conceived.
“She hasn’t had the baby yet,” Harris growled at me.
“Oops, my bad,” I replied as I sat down next to him.
With all these gloom and doom faces, it dawned on me that something might actually be wrong with London, and for a quick second, I became worried. L
ondon and I had our issues, but she was still my sister, and she was having my niece or nephew.
“So, what is going on? Why aren’t you in the delivery room with my sister?”
“She’s having some complications, so they asked me to wait out here,” Harris replied.
Yeah, right, I thought. They were probably worried you’d smack the shit out of her if the baby came out looking like Tony Dash.
“They’re going to give her a C-section,” my mother added.
“A C-section! Jesus Christ, I hope they don’t do that to me.” I ran my hand across my belly. “Last thing I want them doctors to do is cut me up so I’ll have a scar. I plan on wearing a bikini to the beach this summer.”
“Always about you, isn’t it, Paris?” Orlando muttered from across the room.
I stuck up my middle finger. “Fuck you, Orlando! You just mad ’cause Momma shot you down in the board meeting tonight.”
“Paris!” my father snapped before Orlando could reply. “Sit your ass down and shut up!”
“He started it, Daddy,” I said, pointing at Orlando.
“And I’m ending it!” he announced with finality. “Now, sit your ass down and shut up. Don’t make me get out of this chair and embarrass you. Do you hear me?”
I knew my father well enough to know what he was capable of, and I did not want to get smacked in front of my entire family. When Daddy spoke in his “that’s final” voice, there was no sense in arguing. Very few people could try to shut me up and get away with it, but Daddy sure could.
“Yes, sir.” I plopped down in the seat and folded my arms over my round belly with a pout. It used to be that I could just bat my eyes at my father and give him a puppy dog look and all would be forgiven, but that hadn’t been working too well ever since I got pregnant. He seemed to be mad at me all the time lately.
Daddy had told me to shut up, but that was easier said than done when a sudden sharp pain caused me to yell out, “Oh, shit!” I instinctively grabbed my stomach.
“You okay?” Junior asked.
I steadied myself with a deep breath until the pain subsided. “I’m okay. The baby just kicked me like a mule, though. She’s probably hungry. I should have finished eating that sandwich with Rio.”
“You should have gone home like we told you. Lord knows you shouldn’t be having no baby.” My mother shook her head as she walked across the room toward me. “You can barely take care of yourself. How in heaven you gonna take care of a child?”
“Thanks for the support, Mom,” I fumed.
“Don’t get upset with her,” my father chimed in. “Everything she said is the goddamn truth. You don’t need no baby. You’re a damn baby yourself.”
“Daddy!”
“Don’t you ‘Daddy’ me. How the hell could you be so irresponsible? We raised you better than this.”
This wasn’t the first time they’d said these things to me, but it felt even worse hearing it as they waited for London to have her baby. Not to mention the fact that I was in pain. Talk about kicking a dog when it’s down.
“I’m gonna be a good mother,” I protested in my defense.
Daddy sighed. “I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we? I know one thing, though. Your partying days are over.”
He turned his attention away from me, signaling that his verbal smack down was over, and a tense silence fell over the family. No one dared say anything to ignite another tongue-lashing. Daddy could have that effect on people, even my big, strong brothers.
After a long twenty minutes where I sat steaming over my parents’ comments and everyone else sat staring glumly at the walls, a nurse finally came into the room and called out, “Mr. Grant? Harris Grant?”
Everyone stirred excitedly, and Harris jumped up. “That’s me.”
“Would you like to come and meet your daughter?” the nurse asked with a wide smile.
“Congratulations, brother-in-law.” Orlando got up from his seat and patted Harris on the back, starting a round of congratulatory hugs and well-wishes.
For the next minute or so, we were all one big, happy family. As Harris exited the room, though, a look passed between Daddy, Orlando, and Junior. I knew exactly what they were thinking: I hope that baby comes out with nappy hair.
“You want me to go in with him, Pop?” Junior asked.
“I’ll go with him,” I cut in. Junior was volunteering to go in there to make sure Harris didn’t whip London’s ass if the baby wasn’t his. I wanted to go in there to watch the fireworks.
My father shook his head. “No, he’s not that stupid. Let’s give them a minute.”
“Oh, shit,” I said again.
“Paris, do not start. Now is not the time,” my father warned.
“No, Daddy. It’s not that. It’s—” I stopped mid sentence when I felt another sharp kick. I had a pretty high threshold for pain, but this baby was kicking the shit out of me. The pain had me doubled over.
A nurse had just entered the waiting room, and she rushed over to where I was standing. “Are you all right?” she asked as she put a hand on my belly.
I swatted her away and tried to stand up straight. “There’s no need to be touching me. My baby is just kicking, is all,” I said through gritted teeth as another wave of pain surged through my midsection.
“Honey, you’ve got a little more than kicking going on there,” she said, looking down at the floor. I followed her eyes and saw a small pool forming. “Your water just broke. You’re about to have your baby.”
Orlando
4
I watched my family as they walked out of the hospital waiting room in two small groups. Pop and Junior were headed to the maternity ward to find London and make sure Harris hadn’t killed her over the new baby, while Mom followed Paris and the nurse to a birthing room. I was supposed to be headed down to the cafeteria to get Rio, who was Paris’s birthing coach, only I hadn’t gotten out of my seat because I needed a moment to get my head back on straight. And to think today had started off so promising only to wind up like shit.
You see, before she left the room behind Paris and the nurse, my mother turned to me, and her cold, unforgiving eyes said everything her lips didn’t. She was putting me on notice that the conversation concerning H.E.A.T. was far from over. I stared back across the room at her, not with cold eyes, but with an unrelenting determination. I think we both knew that a line had been drawn. We were now officially on opposite sides of a fight that could very well determine our family’s future.
The idea had come to mind that perhaps I should talk to my mother, reason with her without the rest of the family’s prying ears, but my phone vibrated, distracting me. I had barely lowered my head long enough to check the caller ID when I realized she had left the room.
I was still holding the vibrating cell phone in my hand, so I mindlessly answered it. I usually don’t answer blocked calls; however, I’d been getting quite a few of them the past few days. Whoever was calling really must have wanted to talk to me, so here was their chance.
“Hello?” I waited for an answer but only heard silence. “Hello?” I repeated. Still no answer. “Look, I don’t know who this is, but I ain’t got time for this shit,” I cursed into the phone. I was already having a bad day, so I was in no mood to be dealing with trivial bullshit. I made a mental note to have Junior contact our friend at Verizon Wireless and have the number traced.
“Orlando.” I was about to hang up when a faint female voice with a Caribbean accent came through the receiver and said my name. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in quite a while, but I recognized it right away.
“Ruby?”
It took a while before she replied, “Yes, Orlando, it’s me.”
It was a good thing I was in a hospital because my heart almost jumped out of my chest. Not long ago, Ruby was the closest thing I’d ever had to a girlfriend. My family liked to refer to her behind my back as the Jamaican hooker I tried to make into a housewife. Before her, I’d kept all my affairs brief
—and by brief I mean one night with a woman and then she collects her money and goes about her business. It was easier that way, less complicated. But then I met Ruby. I was her first customer in a business she was never cut out to be in. Something about her just made me want to protect her, and I took a chance, broke my own rule, and started seeing her. I was even starting to think about a future with her. Until she disappeared.
“Ruby, where the hell have you been?” I was asking a question that I already knew the answer to because I was so flabbergasted that I didn’t know what else to say. She’d been gone for almost six months, hiding out in Philadelphia with her brother and an Italian mobster by the name of Vinnie Dash. Vinnie was a sworn enemy of my family, and a man I’d vowed to kill.
“I been around,” she said.
“Around where? Tell me. I’m coming to get—”
“No, Orlando, absolutely not! I can’t!”
“What do you mean, you can’t? You’re carrying my fucking baby! For all I know you already had my baby. Whatever our problems are we can fix them. Just come back so we can talk.” I closed my eyes as I said, “Please.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, more gently this time.
“God dammit, why not? Don’t you understand I love you?”
There was silence for a short while; then she said, “Orlando . . . I’m with someone else. A friend of my brother’s. We’re getting married.”
The words clanged in my head like a giant bell over and over again, until I exploded, yelling into the phone, “Getting married? To who, Vinnie Dash? What’s your brother doing down there in Philly, pimping you out to the Italians?”
I heard her take a sudden breath. It took me a second to realize that I had fucked up. Not only had I lost my cool with her, but I had tipped my family’s hand and basically told her what we knew about her brother’s association with Vinnie Dash.
“Ruby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to what? Use nice words to call me a . . . a whore? There was only one man who paid a pimp for my services, Orlando, and that man was you. I guess in the long run that’s why we could never be together, because to you, I’ll always be a ho you had to pay to sleep with, and deep down you know you could never accept that.”