“Yes, I have some formula recommended by the nurse…” Pete trailed off walking toward the kitchen to go out to the garage to retrieve the formula, along with the diapers he quickly picked up from the department store after his tutorial with the nurse.
Moments later, he watched as Debra sat holding the baby, singing him a lullaby while giving him a bottle. Looking at Debra, and her resemblance to Moriah, caused his heart to ache. The picture before him – of a beautiful woman holding a newborn child, should’ve actually been that of his wife holding their baby. Anger started to creep in, as Pete was reminded yet again of what was taken away from him – a future with his wife and their unborn child.
Pete clenched his fists, shoving them deep in his jeans pocket. He was tired of his anger and the pain that he carried with him every day – but he felt helpless to control it. Taking it out on every black man made it easier. His anger had to be directed somewhere. It was a black man after all that crashed into his wife taking her life. Had the man not died of a heart attack, Pete swore he probably would have killed him himself. Someone else had to feel the daily aguish he endured.
“What are you going to name him?” Debra asked in almost a whisper as the baby, after being burped, was drifting back to sleep in her arms.
Pete looked at her blankly, then at the baby – he was still waiting for the anger to appear that he knew would be there because of the color of the newborn’s skin. Nothing. He felt relieved. “I don’t know.” He continued to stand watching them a couple steps away by the entryway between the kitchen and family room. His shoulder pressed against the wall.
“What name do you think of when you look at him,” Debra lifted her eyes to look directly at Pete. Suddenly she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. His dark blue eyes were mesmerizing. He had a full head of hair that made him look younger, like maybe in his late thirties, if it wasn’t for the hint of gray streaks that belied this thought. Wow, he is a good looking man. She was surprised she hadn’t really paid attention to that before. Maybe because he pisses you off, she reminded herself.
“Debra, I don’t have a name for the baby. Why don’t you do the honors? It will be needed for his birth certificate – the nurse made that very clear before I left.” He suddenly realized that he liked the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. Debra.
“Really?” She looked at him in disbelief.
Pete nodded his approval.
Debra looked down at Carlisha’s precious son sleeping in her arms. She was in love with the baby already – and it didn’t hurt that he already resembled his mother. “What about Carl Peter Mitchell?” She looked up at Pete still standing watching her and the baby. “Carl because it’s part of Carlisha’s name and Peter – well because you are his guardian now.”
Pete smiled softly. It was one of the first genuine smile he’d had since before his wife’s death. He was touched that Debra would even consider his name as part of the baby’s name after she’d called him every foul name in the book the last couple days, not to mention just a few minutes ago when she looked like she wanted to kill him with her bare hands. He had to smile at the memory of that too. The fact that another woman – other than his wife could make him feel this warm sensation shocked him a bit.
“I think that’s a nice name,” Pete answered.
“I think so too!”
“Would you mind watching Carl until I get back? Noah and Leah’s neighbor is donating a crib for the baby that I need to pick up.”
“Wow – I’m impressed Pete. Just this morning you didn’t want to have anything to do with the baby, now look at you buying diapers, formula and getting a crib.” Debra couldn’t hide her approval. Maybe this jerk isn’t so bad after all.
“As a bastard I do tend to show my good side at times,” he smirked.
“I’m sor–”
“Please don’t say something you don’t mean. Besides – I really don’t know what I’m getting myself into. But you and Rachel were right – I need to do right by Carlisha, and my wife as a matter of fact, and this is a start.”
Debra nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ll be happy to watch Carl while you’re gone. And I meant what I said at the hospital after he was born – I want to help you any way I can with taking care of him.”
“Okay – I will hold you to it.” With that said he spun on his heels and headed toward the door to the garage.
Chapter 22
Everyone in the small chapel sat quietly listening as the Pastor prayed, ending the memorial service for Carlisha. Her ashes sat in an urn on the altar of the chapel. Next to it was a huge portrait of her wearing a yellow summer dress. It was taken at a BBQ Pete and Moriah had at their home the first summer Carlisha spent with them after she moved to Maryland from Florida.
Because she had few friends, there were only about forty people in attendance for the memorial service. Co-workers, schoolmates, a couple neighbors, and, trying to be disguised, Roger sat at the very back with shades on and his hoodie pulled over his head.
He was stunned to hear about Carlisha’s death from complications from childbirth. He thought his cousin, Marcus, was pulling his leg when he casually told him while Roger was doing some mechanic work under a car hood. He looked ahead, trying to get a glimpse of the baby that Rachel was holding on her shoulder obviously trying to get him to burp. In the same row she sat in were Pete, Debra, Leah and Noah. Roger wanted to see the baby’s face. He wanted to see if there was any clue from the baby’s features that would link him to the child. He had seriously doubted that Carlisha was pregnant when she first told him. He thought she was just trying to pin him down, which unbeknownst to her at the time, he already was – to his wife and kids at home. But that night he had sex with Carlisha for the last time, he realized that she was telling the truth – even though he didn’t let the image of her protruding belly stop him from enjoying the moment. He cared for Carlisha and he enjoyed their moments together – but he was married. When his wife found out about their date at the movies she went ballistic. But somehow he was able to convince her that nothing serious was going on between him and Carlisha – which to his relief she begrudgingly believed.
“Hey Roger – I thought that was you,” Damian said, walking up alongside Roger as he tried to leave the chapel undetected.
“Hey man, what up?” Roger halted before swearing under his breath.
“Came to pay your last respects, it’s really sad that she died, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it blew my mind when I found out,” Roger said still trying to make dodge.
“It’s good you came, she told me that you guys broke up a while ago.”
“Yeah we did. Anyway I’ve got to head back to work, I just wanted to stop by real quick and pay my respects – ya know.”
“Yeah cool!” Damian patted him on the back. “Take care.”
Roger quickly retreated from the chapel. Damian watched as he made his haste. He wondered if the woman who attacked Carlisha was Roger’s wife. From what James had told everyone about the attack, a woman and her group of friends accused Carlisha with sleeping with the woman’s husband. Damian then began to wonder if Carlisha’s son was Roger’s, especially since the authorities had been asking everyone at the office if they had ever seen the woman or her friends before.
Chapter 23
With assistance from Debra and Leah, Pete got Carl’s birth certificate and social security number and all the other newborn paperwork squared away. He even got Carl to his first checkup at the pediatrician that Carlisha had already selected before she died. And he was now officially the guardian of Carlisha’s son.
Hesitation still haunted him though – this was a huge undertaking and he still didn’t see how it was going to work. People swear they will step up and help – but sometimes the momentum only lasted for a short period. How long would it be before he was abandoned and left to take on the task of raising Carl on his own? How was he supposed to take care of an infant – then ultimately a black young man? H
ow could a white man like him supposed to raise a black baby for God’s sake? What could he teach him? Would Pete’s hatred for blacks manifest itself when he looked at Carl as a young man? All these thoughts loomed through his mind as he attempted for the third time to properly put on Carl’s diaper. The little dark mocha skinned baby squirmed on the changing table, looking up at Pete as he tried to fasten his diaper. Pete was left to fend for himself since Debra left an hour ago to go home to get ready for her evening shift at the grocery store.
For the past couple weeks, while he was at work, Debra or Leah came over to watch Carl. Rachel assisted when she could in the evenings between doing the bookkeeping at his printing company and her studies. Having their help did make things a whole lot easier on Pete – but he was really considering calling social services to find out about putting the baby up for adoption or foster care – something, anything, because he just couldn’t see how much longer the whole setup would last. He had a business to run for goodness sake! He didn’t feel he had the time – not to mention the experience to raise a child. Though he would be lying if he said Carl hadn’t snuck in his heart just a bit. The color of his skin didn’t prevent the love he thought he was starting to have for the child. But the reality of the situation was – he couldn’t do this, not long term at least. His dear late wife Moriah and Carlisha, along with Debra, Leah and Rachel would have to forgive him somehow because he just didn’t think it would be fair for him or Carl to continue being his guardian. When Moriah had agreed for them to be Carlisha’s legal guardians he didn’t think it would’ve resulted in him being responsible for the cute child he now held after he triumphantly – at least in his eyes – changed his diaper. Pete held Carl in one arm as he threw the dirty diaper in the waste basket by the changing table. He had converted the guest room, which Carlisha used when she slept over, into the baby’s new room. After disposing of the diaper, he walked over to the rocking chair where a warm bottle sat on an end table nearby. He sat and began rocking back and forth while holding the bottle as Carl sucked to his delight.
Pete always wanted to be a father. He and Moriah had talked about having at least two children – but they suffered two miscarriages. However they didn’t let that stop them from trying. They were determined to have a baby of their own – the natural way. Pete thought of how that opportunity was robbed from them whenever he held the infant in his arms. And now Carlisha who conceived and gave birth to a child – died without even holding her son in her arms. Life is so unfair! So cruel! Pete looked down at the sleepy eyed Carl still sucking on the bottle nipple. And yet you want to get rid of the child and have the state deal with him. Pete was ridiculed by his conscience. But he ignored it – he felt it was best for someone, anyone, other than him to raise Carl. The child’s life would be better off without him.
Chapter 24
Roger was alarmed when he looked out the peephole after the doorbell rang. Moments ago he was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, trying to unwind after putting in ten hours at the mechanic shop. His wife, Porsha, and their three young children ages five, eight and ten weren’t home – for which he was relieved. He didn’t want to deal with their rowdiness anyway. They all got on his damn nerves. That was why he had enjoyed his fling with Carlisha – she was his escape from his reality. He had a disastrous marriage and brats for kids – to put it mildly. Being broke didn’t help the situation either. He worked his butt off at work only to be left with pennies after his paycheck and money from his side mechanic jobs were spent to maintain the household and take care of his jezebel of a wife and the three ungrateful kids he still questioned whether or not were his. He didn’t even know why he lied to Porsha about Carlisha when she found out from her nosey behind friend who saw them at the movie theatre. That could’ve been his way out of the prison he considered his home. But for some dumb reason – he put up with Porsha’s mess and didn’t want to tell her the real truth about him and Carlisha. In the back of his mind he figured it was better to lie. But he did tell Porsha where Carlisha worked knowing that she would confront her. Now that Carlisha was dead he didn’t know what hurt him more – the fact that she was dead or the fact that he couldn’t call her up to kick it with her for a while, help him relieve some stress. He knew that was a messed up way to think – but it is what it is. Besides, Porsha knew how to keep him happy in the bedroom – come to think about it, he figured that was one of the major reasons he put up with her crazy behind. She quenched his sexual appetite.
Still looking through the peephole, Roger tried to remember if he forgot to pay some parking tickets, but he was sure he was current. He was positive the men on his porch were cops – no way were they salesmen. He hadn’t gotten cited for a while. What the hell are the cops doing at my house? He slowly opened the door after the third knock he knew they saw him or at least heard him so he couldn’t pretend like no one was home.
“How can I help you gentlemen?” Roger asked as politely as he could muster up while he held the door ajar to address the two men on his front porch. One white gentleman and the other black were dressed in casual dress attire.
“Is Porsha Smith at home?” The black gentleman asked.
“Sorry but she’s not. What is this about?”
“I’m Detective Wright and this is Detective Miller,” the white detective flashed his credentials. “When do you expect her home?” he continued as Detective Miller tried to look through the curtain covered window near the front door.
“I don’t know, she doesn’t exactly have a schedule,” Roger replied, indignant.
“Well when she returns inform her that we need her to contact the station as soon as possible.” Detective Miller handed Roger a card which he reluctantly received.
“What is this about?” Roger demanded as the detectives turned to walk away.
“We can only discuss the matter with Mrs. Smith, Sir.” Detective Wright stated after turning briefly to face Roger. “Please have her contact us as soon as possible.”
Roger slammed the door shut then stared down at the card in his hand. What kind of mess did Porsha get her crazy behind caught up in? And she wonders why I’m always cheating on her, it’s because she puts me through too much stress. If it wasn’t for the dirt she has on me, I would seriously walk out on her and her ingrate kids. He walked back to the couch, picked up his beer bottle off the coffee table and sat back down. He took a long swig of beer. This wench done gone and did something stupid, her and her crazy posse. Now they have the cops knocking on my got-damn door. It better be about her – she had better not ratted me out to the cops, she always threatens to do so when she gets upset with me. No, they asked for Porsha, if they had wanted me, with all the evidence she has against me, they would’ve dragged me out of here without a second thought. Roger took another long swig of beer – the jezebel done messed up and got herself in trouble. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Chapter 25
Detectives Wright and Miller returned to their unmarked vehicle two blocks away from the house. They would sit and wait a while in hopes of Porsha Smith returning home. They were thankful it wasn’t a high profile case. Heck it wasn’t even cycling around in the local newspapers or media outlets. Arresting Porsha Smith would be a piece of cake.
Unbeknownst to Roger and Porsha– after the attack on Carlisha, Rachel went on a mission to prove that the attack was the cause of her death. There was no way, in her mind, that she – or any of their co-workers and friends believed that young, beautiful, full-life-ahead-of-her Carlisha, could have died purely from complications of childbirth. Even if she never revealed to anyone but Debra about her pregnancy – Rachel just knew she had to vindicate her friend’s death. She had to.
When the police department dragged their feet to properly investigate the report of the attack that James had provided, Rachel begged Noahher father to get a favor from his friend – big time Prince George’s County lawyer Lovell Adderley to push for a thorough investigation of the cause of Carlisha’
s death before she was cremated. The medical examiner’s report showed that Carlisha had a large bruise on her back resulting from her falling on the floor after she was punched by Porsha. The fall caused internal bleeding and severe abdominal pain that Carlisha suffered from when she was brought into the emergency room by ambulance. After finding out the true cause of Carlisha’s death, the information was immediately given to the legal authorities, which pushed the police department to quickly review the security camera tapes which identified Porsha Smith as Carlisha’s attacker just hours before she died.
The information of Carlisha’s true cause of death pained Debra even more. How could such an innocent, loving woman like Carlisha be given such a lot in life? To have her parents killed when she was a young child, to grow up in the foster care system and to years later be attacked and killed herself leaving a young child with no parents? All the things Debra once felt bitter about her life for evaporated in an instant. So what she had a terrible marriage and wasn’t physically able to have a child of her own – her life was still filled with love. She had her parents and other family members. Which was a whole lot more than what Carlisha had. Yet Carlisha seemed to have had a strong head on her shoulders and was working hard toward making a great life for herself. It was all snatched away too soon.
Chapter 26
Pete was exhausted by the time he returned home from work that evening. The print shop had been busy fulfilling orders for a huge Law Association’s annual banquet. They needed everything from invitations, to place cards and thank you notes. Pete didn’t mind the work though – he started his business because of his interest for graphic design, plus he and Moriah no longer wanted to work for other people – they wanted their own business which would have allowed them their freedom to do as they pleased. Although Pete definitely knew running a business wasn’t as easy as it seemed, especially when you had to keep on top of all the financial and tax obligations. But he wouldn’t trade it – especially now that his wife was gone. They built their business together. The print shop held a very special place in his now cold heart.
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