by Paula Cox
I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to… but I just couldn’t. “I can’t,” I whispered, and I felt like I was going to cry.
“You can,” he said, his lips hovering millimeters above mine. “Let me prove it to you.”
“You need to go,” I gasped out. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you stay.”
“Please, Alex. Let me stay.”
“I can’t, Cain… I can’t.”
“I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“It’s not me that I’m worried about,” I murmured as I felt a tear trickle down the side of my face.
He kissed me once, very gently, on the lips then rose from me. He began to dress, refusing to look at me. I felt like shit, but I couldn’t allow him to stay. I couldn’t allow him into my life.
I rolled over and dressed, pulling my sweats on. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” he said quietly. He looked at me and I could see the hurt in his eyes. When he shrugged into his Hounds vest, he pulled the phone and dialed.
“This is Cain Rodgers. I ordered the cab for 1622 Tonti Street. Yes, I know. I got busy and couldn’t meet the driver. I know, but I will pay double. Yes, okay, thanks.”
We sat in uncomfortable silence until the cab arrived. I walked him to the door. “I’m sorry, Cain.”
He looked at me like he was going to say something, but then just turned and walked out of the door. When he reached the cab, he paused, as if waiting for me to call to him back. I didn’t, and he opened the door and sat down. As the car backed out of my drive, I closed my front door and locked it.
I went back to bed and I could smell him on the sheets. I lay there, sick at my stomach, not from morning sickness, but from dread, wondering what I was doing, wondering if I was making the right choice, the tears slowly rolling down my cheeks until I slipped into sleep.
Chapter 8
I pulled my purse and the baggy with the peanut butter sandwich from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. Dinner would be waiting on me, but over the last several days I had learned that strong spicy smells and foods could sometimes upset my stomach. I had been eating a lot of pasta, fruit and, my old standby, peanut butter sandwiches.
I slid the baggy into my purse so Granny wouldn’t see it. I would only pull it out if I had to because I was looking forward to some of her low country gumbo and I had eaten a peanut butter covered apple before I left home to try to head off any queasiness. I would go heavy on the rice and light on the gumbo, season it with a prayer, and hope I could get through the meal without embarrassing myself.
Granny was waiting in the living room as I entered and I gave her my hug and kiss, repeating the process with Grandpa before following her into the kitchen. I took a deep breath and was relieved that the wonderful smells of Granny’s kitchen didn’t bother me.
We talked about this and that in low voices. I told her about the morning sickness but she had no advice other than stick with what I was doing. She hadn’t suffered with morning sickness, and my mother hadn’t either, though she said Mom had tended to binge on various foods when a craving would hit, and that would make her puke. She told me a funny story of my mom eating corn on the cob during one of her cravings and had me in tears of laughter as I imagined the mess she must have made.
When we sat down to eat I followed my plan, dipping out a lot of rice but only a little of the gumbo. Grandpa looked at me kind of funny but said nothing and I kept my head down to avoid making eye contact. But it was all for nothing. When I bit into my first shrimp I felt my stomach roll over and I knew what that meant.
“I can’t,” I said softly as I pushed the bowl away.
“It’s okay, Alexandria,” Granny said softly. “Do you want me to make you a sandwich?”
“No,” I said miserably. “I brought one.”
“Are you okay?” Grandpa asked looking at my bowl. “You’re not sick are you?”
“A little,” I said as I stared at the table.
“Go get your sandwich,” Granny said.
I rose from the table and returned with my slightly squished sandwich. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pulled the sandwich out of the bag and laid it on my napkin.
“Oh, poo,” Granny said with a wave of her hand. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
I took a bite of the sandwich and felt my stomach settle almost immediately, even before I swallowed, and I wondered how much of my upset stomach was all in my head.
Grandpa might be old school, but he wasn’t stupid, and he looked back and forth between me and Granny. “What’s going on here?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s time, Alexandria,” Granny said softly.
“Time for what?” Grandpa asked, looking at me. I could feel his eyes even though I couldn’t look up and meet them.
“I’m pregnant,” I mumbled, holding to the sandwich, unable to do anything else in my misery.
“Pregnant? Are you sure? When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered as the tears began to fall. “I was afraid of what you might think. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an accident.”
“Accident my ass. You don’t get pregnant on accident.”
“Esten, that’s enough,” Granny said firmly as I wept.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa! I really am! Please, don’t hate me!”
I heard his spoon clank as he tossed it into his bowl, and I looked at him, afraid to see his face, but I had to know. He looked at me a moment, his face hard, and then he stood. I thought he was going to walk out of the room, but he pulled me to my feet and hugged me. As my arms went around him, the waterworks really started. I clung to him, my relief so great I couldn’t stop my tears.
“Shhh, child. I can’t hate you. I could never do that,” he said softly as I blubbered into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa! I don’t know how it happened. I was so careful!”
“Shhh…” he whispered as he rocked me in his arms. He held me until I cried myself out and then wiped my eyes with a finger. “Nothing for it now. Seems like this runs in the family.” I heard what he said but I didn’t understand what he meant. “Sit down. Finish your dinner. Then we’ll talk,” he said as he released me.
I ate the remainder of my sandwich in silence, staring at my bowl. I was so ashamed that I couldn’t even meet his eyes. He may not hate me, but I knew he was disappointed in me. They had done everything for me, from the time I was a little girl, raising me as another daughter and sending me to school after their own daughter had grown up and was gone. And I had let them down. They had cautioned me to be careful, to not get myself into a situation that I would later regret, and, despite my best efforts, I had.
When the meal was over, I began to help Granny clear the table as Grandpa returned to his chair.
“I’ve got this. Go talk to your grandpa. And don’t worry. Remember, no matter what, Alexandria, we will always love you,” Granny said.
I started to cry again as I held one of the two most important people in my life tight. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t find the words. “Thank you. I love you so much,” I finally gasped out.
“And I love you, too. Now scoot.”
I walked into the living room and sat down in Granny’s chair beside Grandpa. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at my shoes.
Grandpa turned off the television and looked at me a moment. “I’m not going to lecture you, Scooter,” he said and I smiled in spite of myself. He hadn’t called me Scooter in ten years or more. “Do you know who the dad is?”
I felt my temper flair at the question but tamped it down. I was the one in the wrong here. “Yes. His name is Cain Rodgers.”
“Known him long?”
I didn’t want to answer that one. “No,” I whispered.
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
“Good. He has a right to know.”
“I know.”
<
br /> “What’s he going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s he going to do to help you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, he offered to help me, but I don’t want his help, Grandpa.”
“Why?”
“Because, he’s trouble. I should have never gotten involved with him.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t want his help. I don’t want him around me or the baby.” Grandpa said nothing until I looked up from the floor to meet his eyes. “What?”
“To deny him his child is wrong, Alexandria.”
“But you don’t understand. I think he may be a criminal.”
“Why?”
“He won’t tell me what he does. All he will tell me is he is in the import business. He said he imports ‘machined parts’ but he won’t tell me what they are or what they are for.”
“Who does he work for?”
“Nobody. That’s the problem. He’s part of a motorcycle club and they do this import business thing.”
Grandpa rubbed his chin like he does when he is thinking. “I can understand your fears, but people can change. If he offered to help...”
“But I can’t trust him!”
“Alex, let me tell you a little story. You know I was in the Longshoremen, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “I’m not proud of what I have done, but you can’t change the past. Not only did I load and unload ships, but I also was an…enforcer… for a while.”
“A what?” I asked.
“An enforcer. I…used to pay visits to men and their families. If you were working against the union, I, or someone like me, would pay you a visit and explain why it would be in your best interest to stop doing what you were doing.”
I looked at him in shock. I had no idea, and said so.
“That was a long time ago. But when I got your grandmother pregnant…” he paused as he smiled slightly “… she said the same thing about me.”
“Granny was pregnant with Mom before you two were married?” I gasped. I had no idea about that, either.
“Yes. And you’re mother was pregnant with you before she was married, too. Though in your case, your mom and dad were already talking about getting married. Like I said, this seems to run in the family.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I murmured. My world was turning upside down.
“When Q’Bell became pregnant, I asked her to marry me, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. We had been dating for six or seven months, I guess, when it happened. After that, she wanted to break it off. It wasn’t until I convinced her that what I did for the Longshoremen was a job, it wasn’t who I was, that she even considered marrying me.”
“How did you do that?”
“I took responsibility for what had happened. I made sure I was there for her, and the baby, no matter what.”
“And she agreed to marry you?”
“Eventually. I had to give up the enforcer duties, but I was only doing that because it needed doing. It wasn’t like I enjoyed doing it. It was just a job.”
“But you still had a job. If Cain were to stop…”
“But is it who he is, or is it just his job?”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Alexandria, Cain has a right to be involved in his child’s life. You can’t deny that and you can’t take it away, but he also has a responsibility.”
“I’m not sure I understand the difference.”
“He has a right to be involved in the decisions you make for the child. If you decide to give the child up for adoption, for example, he should be consulted. Or if, god forbid, the child becomes ill, he has a right to have a say in its treatment. You can’t deny him these rights. To do so is just wrong, but his responsibility is to help care for his child – to protect it from harm. He should be involved in the raising of the child. That responsibility extends to the mother. He should be there to help you, both financially and emotionally. You said that he offered you help. How?”
“He didn’t say. But he has been very sweet to me ever since he found out.”
“Did he offer to help you with money?”
“Yes, kind of. To be honest, I never gave him much of a chance to tell me how he would help.”
“Does he love you?”
“No. We’ve just met.”
“Alexandria, you are a grown woman, and you can make up your own mind. But if you just met Cain, how do you know what kind of man he is?”
That made me blink. “I don’t.”
“If he is willing to help, you should accept his help, at least until you find out what kind of man he is. He may not be like you think. And the fact is, you’re going to need help. I can remember when your mom was born. There were two of us, and it was still all we could do. Things are different now, but they’re not that much different. Q’Bell and I will help you as much as we can, but we’re almost seventy. We’re not going to be around for much longer.”
I sat in dumbfounded silence. I had no idea that my Grandpa, the sweetest, most kind and gentle man I knew, was once a…thug.
Maybe I had been unfair to Cain. I had certainly been mean to him. I still felt guilty for letting him take me to bed then kicking him out, but he had abided by my wishes and I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
“I don’t know what to do!” I wailed. “Tell me what to do!”
“Follow your heart,” he said as he held my hand. “I can’t tell you what to do, but you will know when it is the right thing.”
“My brain is telling me to have nothing to do with him.”
“But?” he asked, drawing the word out, sensing there was more than just what I said.
“But…he has been so kind and understanding, even when I have been cruel to him.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know! That’s the problem.”
Grandpa smiled at me and gave my hand a squeeze. “Then maybe you should find out what kind of man he is. Then you will know what to do. Maybe, just maybe, he’s not the man you think he is.”
I looked at him a moment then rose and gave him a long hug. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding…and for not disowning me.”
***
Later, as I drove home, I thought about Cain and if he was taking responsibility for what had happened. Yes, he got me pregnant, but he hadn’t done it on purpose. And, as he said, I was just as guilty for what had happened as he was. I thought about all the things he had done, or tried to do, to support me. He had found something I could eat when my morning sickness was acting up. He had visited the doctor’s office with me and had insisted that I put him on the forms as the father. He had met me after work just to make sure I got home safely. Was that taking responsibility? Perhaps it was, in the best way he could, considering I was stiff-arming him at every turn.
Perhaps I did need to find out what kind of man Cain Rodgers really was.
Chapter 9
As I drove from Granny and Grandpa’s, I dialed my phone.
“Cain.”
“Cain, this is Alex.”
“I know.”
“I’m calling to apologize.”
“For what?” He was being short with me, not that I could blame him, but he also sounded slightly sad.
“I haven’t treated you well.” I paused, to give him a chance to respond, but he said nothing. “Can we meet?”
“What’s the point? You’ve made your position perfectly clear.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for the way I have acted. I haven’t been nice to you; I know that. I would like to talk to you. Please.”
“I’m leaving for Dallas in the morning.”
“I would really like to talk to you. Can we meet tonight? Please?”
I heard him sigh into the phone. “Where?”
“Can we try Lard Have Mercy? Third times the charm,�
�� I said to try to lighten the mood, but he was having none of it.
“I can be there in forty-five minutes.”
“Thank you,” I said just before he ended the call.
***
I walked into Lard Have Mercy forty minutes later. I had gone there straight from Granny and Grandpa’s house because I wanted to be there before him, but I saw his bike in the parking lot when I arrived. He was seated in a booth at the back and he had no smile for me this time.