by Carl Weber
“You knew, didn’t you? You knew he was fucking around on me?”
She looked down at the ground. “I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I didn’t like what I saw when I came by your house. It wasn’t right having that bitch around while you’re at work.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Stephanie?”
“Would you have believed me?”
I hesitated because she was right—I probably wouldn’t have.
“You still should have told me, Steph.”
“I couldn’t tell you. Not without any evidence. He would have lied, and you would have believed him. And the only one who would have gotten hurt would be me. I would have lost a sister I’m just now getting to know.”
I looked at her sadly as she continue.
“You need to get away from him as fast as possible, Jasmine.”
“You think I don’t know that? I can’t help it if I still love the fool.”
I must have sounded as helpless as I felt, ’cause Stephanie didn’t stick around with any more words of wisdom. I guess I couldn’t blame her. I had just finished kicking everyone out, and they were all probably waiting outside to hear what I said to her. She could only stay but so long before Big Momma got pissed.
“Look, I gotta go. Momma and them are waiting in the van. I love you.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight.
“I love you, too, Stephanie.” She went outside and headed for her car. All the others had gone, but there was Big Momma in the front seat of the van, watching us closely. I could only imagine what she was thinking right about now.
“Stephanie!” I yelled, and she turned around. “Who is she?”
“Who?”
“The girl in the video.”
“Shit, I thought you knew.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t see her face.”
“Well, maybe that’s a good thing. ’Cause trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
I had to take her word for that, because she wasn’t offering any more details. If I could stand it, I’d have to watch the tape again from the beginning. I couldn’t hurt any worse than I already did, and at least then I’d know who Derrick thought it was worth losing me for.
Stephanie called out one more time as she started the car. “Jasmine! Call Dylan. I saw him in the mall and he was asking about you. He’s the kinda guy you wanna get with. He kinda reminds me of Travis.” I could hear Big Momma agreeing from the passenger seat.
I thought about what she said as I watched her drive away. She was right. Maybe I would call Dylan.
36
Dylan
I’d just pulled in front of my store, and like so many other times in the past few months, I found myself daydreaming about Jasmine. It seemed like forever since I’d seen her, and even though I’d gotten my ass kicked by Derrick and his boys because of her, I missed the hell outta that woman. I closed my eyes, and an image of her beautiful face took over my thoughts. Well, at least it did until Joe started banging on the passenger-side window of my car like a madman. That fool scared me so bad I almost peed on myself.
“Hey, man! Open the door. I need to talk to you,” his voice boomed, even through the glass.
When I finally regained my composure, I gave him the finger. He stood with his arms crossed and laughed at me. He always did enjoy fuckin’ with me.
“Goddamn it, Joe! What the hell’d you do that for? You tryin’ to give me a heart attack or something?”
“Sorry, man. I couldn’t resist.” He reached for the latch. “Open up. I got something important I gotta tell you.” I hit the unlock button. He opened the door and slid in. It took a few seconds for him to adjust the seat to accommodate his large six-foot-five frame, but when he was settled, he turned to me with a dead-serious expression.
“Drive.”
“Drive? I ain’t going nowhere.” I took my keys out of the ignition. “I gotta open the store.”
“Look, you can open the store when we get back. This is important. Now, come on.” He gestured at the ignition.
“What’s going on, Joe? Where we going?” I placed the keys back in the ignition and started the car.
“Southside Regional,” he said flatly.
“Southside Regional ... Medical Center? ” He nodded as I pulled into the street. “Why we going there? You sick?”
“You asked me to find Monica, didn’t you?”
“Yeah”
“Well, I found her. She’s at Southside Regional.”
“Is she all right?” I asked in a worried whisper.
“Yeah, she’s fine. But rumor has it you mighta became a daddy last night.” My eyes lit up.
“Monica had the baby?” I tried to sound nonchalant, but a wave of excitement passed through me. I know she told me the baby wasn’t mine, but I still wanted a blood test. No matter what she screamed at me from that jail cell, my heart leaped at the thought of possibly being a father. I’d invested too much of my emotions in this whole situation and lost Jasmine in the process. I had to see this through. I had to find out if the baby was mine.
“Dylanl Dylan, you ah’ight, man?” Joe roused me from my shocked state.
“I’ll be ah’ight, man. I just didn’t think this day would come so soon. She wasn’t supposed to have the baby for a few weeks;” I told him. I really didn’t feel like getting into the million other things I was thinking at the moment, such as, was I really the baby’s father? And, more important, was the baby born healthy?
We rode in silence the rest of the way as I sorted through the array of feelings that were coming at me in waves. I was so nervous by the time we got to the hospital, I thought my knees were gonna give out. It’s a good thing I had Joe with me, because it probably would have taken me an hour to find the maternity ward.
“Excuse me, beautiful. We’re looking for Monica Cooper’s room.” Joe smiled flirtatiously at the woman behind the desk as we stepped off the elevator onto the sixth floor.
“I’m sorry, sir. Visiting hours don’t start till noon.”
Joe pointed at me. “What about him? He’s the baby’s daddy.”
“Oh, that’s a little different. Let me see what I can do. What’s her name again?”
“Monica Cooper,” Joe replied.
The woman looked down at a chart, and I got even more nervous. What if there was a note alerting her that Monica didn’t wanna see me or have me see the baby?
“Cooper, Cooper. Monica Cooper. Here it is.” She looked up at me. “Looks like she had a C-section last night. What’s your name, sir?”
“Dylan Taylor,” I told her nervously.
She picked up the phone, dialing some numbers. “Hi, Monica. This is Carol, from the nurses’ station. There’s a gentleman out here by the name of Dylan Taylor.” She listened for a few seconds. “All right, I’ll send him down.”
“You’re gonna have to wait here with me.” She smiled at Joe. “But you can go see Monica. She’s right down the hall on your left. Room six twenty-three. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I told her halfheartedly as I turned to Joe. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back.” He glanced at the woman’s name tag. “Won’t I, Carol?” Joe grinned and the woman blushed. I just shook my head as I walked down the hallway. That Joe sure had a way with women.
So while he stayed at the desk and flirted, I headed down the hall, more scared than I’d been in a long time. Joe had no idea how much I really wanted him to go with me. I didn’t know what I was about to walk into. Would Monica scream on me again as soon as she saw me, or would she welcome me and let me hold the baby? And of course, there was still the question of how I would feel about this child, who may or may not be mine.
When I first walked into the room, I was relieved. It was a big room with four beds in it. Only one other bed was occupied on this morning. The curtain was drawn around it, so I didn’t see the couple, but I could hear the murmurs of proud new parents cooin
g at their infant. This was good news for me. I figured that with strangers in the room, Monica would at least have to try and act civil. When I saw her in the bed in the back, I was pleasantly surprised to see that she was more than civil. She was smiling at me.
Monica was propped up in her bed, holding the baby. And believe it or not, she looked pretty good. I was expecting her to look all skinny and cracked out, but she didn’t. She almost looked like her old self. I mean, she was obviously tired from giving birth, but that was it. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t guess she was a drug user.
“Hi, Dylan,” she said quietly as I crossed the room to her bed.
I was so mesmerized by the sight of the baby in her arms that I didn’t even answer her. I’m sure this must have offended her, ’cause as I got closer to look at the baby, she kinda hunched over like she didn’t want me to see the bundle in her arms.
“I just had a fucking C-section and you can’t even say hi?” Her voice was a little harsher, but she was trying to keep it down so as not to disturb the other couple in the room. So maybe she was still mad about our last encounter, but at least she wasn’t screeching at me the way she was in the jail.
“I’m sorry. Hi, Monica, how you feeling?” I replied quickly, making sure to keep any trace of attitude out of my tone. I didn’t wanna fight with her. I had more important things to do. And she obviously knew what I was there for, ’cause once I acknowledged her, she gave me what I wanted: a view of the baby.
“I’m all right, I suppose.” She sat up and loosened the blanket from around the baby. I swear, my heart felt lighter in my chest when she exposed the small, brown face. I know it’s not scientific, but that baby’s dark pigment meant the world to me. Oh, I knew there was still the possibility that the baby could be Jordan’s, but now the odds were considerably in my favor. I smiled softly at the beautiful child.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” I mumbled.
“A boy. His name is Davon.”
“A boy ... a boy. I always wanted a son.” I was choked up. “Can I hold him?”
“Okay. Just be careful.”
I pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, arms outstretched. Monica placed Davon gently in my arms and I cradled his tiny body close to mine. My heart was pounding till it felt like it would burst. He had to be the most gorgeous baby I’d ever seen. It was love at first sight. I didn’t wanna ever let him go. Sadly, as I gazed at this beautiful child, reality set in.
“Is he healthy? I mean, he doesn’t have that shit in him, does he?”
“I don’t think so,” Monica answered honestly. “I mean, I haven’t been getting high lately, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You haven’t been getting high?” I made sure she heard my disbelief. “You broke outta rehab four times to get high. And now you expect me to believe you just stopped using? Please, Monica. Do I look stupid?”
She actually looked insulted! But I didn’t care. Somebody had to be straight with her. There was no reason to avoid the issue now. In fact, with Davon here, it seemed even more important to face it.
“I just did thirty days in the Petersburg jail for having drugs during that raid. How the hell did you expect me to get high?” she tried to explain. But I wasn’t about to let her off so easy.
“You can get drugs in jail. You think I don’t know that?”
“Yeah, you can get high if you got money. I didn’t even have money for cigarettes, so I damn sure wasn’t getting high.”
I let the issue drop for now. That was her story, and it looked like she was stickin’ to it. I made a mental note to ask the doctor later if the baby was checked for drugs in his system.
“Well, let’s hope the other eight months you were getting high doesn’t affect him....” I kissed the baby, suddenly sorry for the life he would have to lead with Monica as his mother. “So, you’re probably gonna get high the second you get outta here, aren’t you? I bet you wish you could get a hit right now.” She looked away, answering my question without saying a word. “You’re pathetic, Monica. You know that?”
“Look, I didn’t ask you to come here and lecture me, Dylan. So just gimme my baby and get the hell outta here.” She pointed at the door.
“You want me to leave?”
“You don’t understand English? Yes, I want you to leave.” She raised her voice and looked at me like I was stupid.
“Keep it down, Monica,” I warned her. I felt bad for the other couple, who had suddenly become silent. Our drama was definitely intruding on their happy little family moment.
“Okay, I’ll leave,” I whispered. “All you gotta do is tell me the truth. Is Davon my son? ’Cause if he is, you ain’t getting rid of me. I’m not gonna abandon my child. You know me better than that.”
Monica’s expression relaxed, but she still didn’t answer me. She wouldn’t even make eye contact. I repeated the question.
“Is the baby mine, Monica?”
“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “I hope so. ’Cause Jordan’s ass ain’t worth a shit.”
“Damn. This is bullshit, Monica. What the fuck happened to you? You weren’t like this when me met.” I was trying to keep my voice down, but it was getting harder to keep my emotions in check. Luckily for everyone in the room, we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“I heard you wanted to see me, Ms. Cooper. How you feeling?” A short, balding white man wearing a lab coat walked into the room.
“I’m doing all right, Dr. Benson. Just a little tired,” Monica answered.
“How are your stitches?”
“A little sore.”
“Well, that’s to be expected. I’ll see if I can get you something for mat.” The doctor turned and smiled at me kindly. “And who is this young man holding the baby? Is he the father?”
All of a sudden, Monica was speechless. The Monica I once knew would have been totally embarrassed to be in the situation she was in now. I guess she still had a little pride left, ’cause she was not about to admit she couldn’t name the father of her child. I didn’t give a shit about her pride. I answered the doctor.
“That’s up in the air, doc. We’re still trying to sort that out.”
I expected a disapproving look from the doctor, but I guess he’d seen it all before.
“Well, if it’s a matter of paternity,” he suggested, “we can give you a simple swab test here and take care of that. It’ll take a couple of days to get the results, but by the time Monica’s released, you should know.”
I didn’t bother to ask for Monica’s opinion. My only concern was finding out for sure about this beautiful child in my arms. I needed to know if I was his father, so I could start making plans.
“Sounds good to me, doc. When can we do it?”
“Just let me finish my rounds and then I’ll be back with some consent forms. We can do it this morning if you’re both in agreement.” His eyes moved from me to Monica. She nodded her approval, though she refused to make eye contact with me or the doctor.
“Okay, then. I’ll be back in a little while.” The doctor turned and left us alone. I’m sure the happy couple was relieved that Monica and I didn’t speak at all until the doctor came back to give us the test that would determine the course of the rest of my life.
I stepped off the elevator and into the maternity ward of the hospital, carrying a car seat in one hand and my paternity papers in the other. Joe’s new friend Carol was sitting at the nurses’ station. I gave her a smile and a warm hello. She didn’t respond, though. Matter of fact, she actually frowned when we made eye contact. I ignored her and walked past the station toward Monica’s room. I guess her date with Joe last night must not have gone too well. I wasn’t gonna let that bother me, though. Especially since, after three painful days of waiting, I’d finally received the paternity results proving Davon was my son.
“Excuse me, Dylan?” I turned around and saw Carol. She had come from the station and was standing in the corridor.
“Were you c
alling me?”
“Yes, I was.” She hesitated. “I just wanted to tell you she’s not there.”
“What are you talking about? Who’s not there?”
“Ms. Cooper. She’s not in her room. She checked out a few hours ago.”
“Monica checked out?” I froze. Carol nodded.
“Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know. She left with an older man, but I don’t think they knew each other very well.”
“Why’s that?”
“When he came to ask for her, he didn’t know her last name.”
“And you let her leave with him? They’re probably going somewhere to smoke crack. What’s wrong with you people?”
“We can’t tell patients who they can and cannot leave with. The only thing we require is a release from the doctor and a car seat for the baby.”
“Car seat for the baby! Oh, my God! Please, tell me my son’s still here. Please.” I held my breath and said a prayer as I waited for her answer. When she didn’t respond quickly enough, I ran straight to the nursery. I looked in every single bassinet they had, but couldn’t find my son. I finally stopped dead in my tracks when I looked up at the big board they had on the wall. My son’s name had a black mark through it and discharge written in red.
That’s when I realized I couldn’t breathe. My heart began to race, and my chest tightened up. A knot developed in my stomach that dropped me to one knee. I swear to God, I thought I was having a heart attack, the pain was so bad. It took me a good sixty seconds to recover from what I soon realized was not a heart attack but an anxiety attack.
“Dylan? You all right?” It was Carol.
“My son’s not here, is he?”
“No, she took him with her,” Carol replied tentatively.
“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening to me,” I repeated.
37
Jasmine
I must have watched that video twenty times before Derrick came home. He was calm, cool, and collected. Judging from the way he strolled in, he had no idea what had gone down earlier in the day. He had no idea that right now all his clothes and personal shit were on the lawn below our bedroom window. Just knowing that shit was out there made me feel a little better. At least enough that I could look at him now without crying.