by Teisha Mott
“How? How are you dealing with this, Samantha? What’s your big master plan? And no, ambivalence is not a plan!”
“Whatever my plan is, it has nothing to do with you, so go home to Mobay, or back to New York, or straight to hell and leave me alone!”
She was getting upset, Jeremy noted. He decided to back off. He knew that it could not be healthy for the baby if she were to get so upset.
“Look, Samantha,” he said trying to hold on to some modicum of reason and calm. “I’m sorry, alright. I didn’t come here to upset you…”
“No, you came here under some misguided obligation, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to be a part of this, so please just do us both a favour and leave!”
Jeremy sighed. “Look, just calm down, alright. Let me get you a drink…” He motioned to the waitress.
“I don’t want a drink, Jeremy!” Samantha told him. She was slowly losing her patience, and if he couldn't get it into his head that she didn't want him around, and get to the hand shake and the goodbye part of this little meeting, she was going to be late for her salon appointment. “If you recall, you getting me a drink was what lead to us being here in the first place. Look, all I want right now is for you to understand that you’re not a part of this. I don’t want you around hovering over me or proposing to me or making plans with me. I don't want you here! All I want is for you to Go. Home!"
Jeremy lost what shred of his temper that he had been holding on to. “What the hell is wrong with you, Samantha?” He yelled. A few heads turned in their direction and he quickly lowered his voice. “Look, you need to get over yourself for one bloody minute so we can figure this thing out like adults! Maybe I wasn’t clear enough earlier: you’re not having this baby alone and I am not going anywhere!"
Samantha took a breath. First he did not want their baby; next he was proposing to her to save face. She was not going to be the wife who knows her husband only proposed because of an accidental baby. She was Samantha Persaud, and she may have fallen off her princess pedestal, but as there was a God in Heaven, she was going to get up and move on with her life without Jeremy Malcolm.
She stood. "Fine. You won’t go? Then I will. Have a nice day, Jeremy!"
"Samantha, c'mon, please don't leave!"
Samantha gave him one last withering look before slinging her Marc Jacobs satchel over her shoulder and storming out of La Fa.
Jeremy sighed and resisted the urge to pound the table. This scene was too damn familiar. Samantha had run away from him that Saturday morning after she realised they had slept together, then again that Sunday morning at Starbucks. Both times he had thought that she was out of his life forever. But fate had a twisted sense of humour. He never expected Samantha to receive him with open arms, but he certainly did not expect that she would tell him to go away. He did not know what he was going to do. This was a situation he never thought he would have found himself in.
Jeremy watched her go, wishing he could go after her. He couldn’t. She wanted to be left alone, and he had no choice but to respect her wishes.
Not for long, though. He was going to be a father. Some little child would be running around with his DNA. He had thought that one day, maybe when he was forty, he would settle down with a girl who could put up with him, and have a couple of children. But that was one day. Not today! Jeremy sat there in the corner table at La Fa, wishing he could move. He was going to be a father in a mere 7 1/2 months. 30 weeks. 211 days. He couldn't panic. Samantha, despite her cool façade, was obviously panicking enough for both of them. He had to be a man. He could handle this. He was 23 years old, with a job on the horizon. He could do it. He could take care of Samantha and their baby. Then a searing thought came to his head. Phillip! What was he going to tell Phillip? He had told Phillip he hadn’t slept with his cousin and now.... Crap, this was not good. This was not good at all!
“Crap! Crap! Crap!” Jeremy whispered to himself.
Finally, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I don't mean to bother you...”
“And yet you do it anyway!” Was the terse response. “What do you want?”
“I’m in Kingston and I need to talk to you about something. It’s important. Can you see me?” He paused and waited for the response. “Thank you. I will come straight away.”
***
Jeremy knocked and ensured he waited for confirmation before he entered the office.
“Thanks for seeing me…” he began.
Judge Malcolm looked up at him from over his glasses. “I thought you would have gone into hiding after how you embarrassed me the other night!” He commented.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy responded, meaning every word of it. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Do you hate me, Jeremy?” His father asked. “Do you wish I was dead?”
“Of course not!”
“So why do you treat me the way you do?”
“I don’t…”
“You act as though I am the worst father in the world. Haven’t I always been there for you and your sister? Providing for you…”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when I got called to the bench, did I pack you all up and move you away to Kingston from your school and your friends? Do you think it is easy for me to live away from my home five days a week?”
“I don’t…”
“You wouldn’t understand the first thing about being a father and a Judge at the same time,” Judge Malcolm continued. “You just wait until you have children of your own. And wait and see how it feels when one of them jumps down your throat and embarrass you like you did to me.”
Jeremy looked at his father. He was nothing if not a deluded and manipulative son of a bitch.
“But I forgive you for acting like a little premenstrual teenage girl.” The judge opened the docket on his desk. “So you can go home and sleep well tonight. All is well.”
“Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about...”
Judge Malcolm looked at his son. “What is it? Are you in trouble, Jeremy?”
Jeremy took a breath. “There is this girl... I knew her from UWI. We met up in New York a couple months ago and we had.... We were intimate...”
Judge Malcolm closed his docket. “I see. So what? She crying rape?”
“No...”
“She married? Her husband threatening you?”
“No, sir. She isn’t married.”
“So then why are you bothering me with your sex life, Jeremy?" Judge Malcolm turned back to his work. "Why you really think I care who you sleep with? Don’t tell me she gave you something.”
“Actually, I gave her something,” Jeremy whispered. “She’s pregnant.”
Silence. Jeremy looked at his father. He wondered whether he had heard him. The judge was not saying anything. He was still reading his docket. Jeremy wondered whether he needed to repeat himself.
“Did you hear…”
“You goddamn, blazing idiot!” The judge exploded, and Jeremy almost jumped out of his skin. “You must be the world’s stupidest… How old were you when I explained how to use a condom?”
Jeremy did not respond.
“That was not a rhetorical question!” Judge Malcolm roared. “Answer me!”
“Eleven,” Jeremy whispered, feeling as mortified as he did that day when his father had come into his room and explained quite explicitly the joys of manhood.
“And did I not tell you that you must use one all the time?”
“You did, but it was this one time, and I thought…”
“But you didn’t think!” His father continued. “You didn’t think and now…” He shook his head. “What part of ‘all the time’ was not clear to you?”
Again, Jeremy did not respond, but this time his father did not press him to.
“I swear you have lost your damn mind!” Judge Malcolm shook his head. “Or your mother dropped you on your head when you w
ere a baby and didn’t tell me. That is the only explanation as to why you are such an idiot.”
Again, Jeremy made no comment. It was pointless trying to explain to his father that the entire scenario had been karma screwing with him.
“Well one thing that is blatantly obvious is that this little 'mistake' proves how incapable you are of being a responsible father,” Judge Malcolm opined. He reached towards his rolodex. “We can deal with this. How far along is she?”
“Ten weeks.”
“And where is she now?”
“Here in Kingston.”
Judge Malcolm found the number he was looking for. “Well, you just thank God, you careless little dipshit, that your father has friends in low places. I will make a few calls and put an end to this nonsense!”
Jeremy was confused. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? Are you totally retarded? Let me spell it out for you. You are going to get her to terminate this pregnancy, and I’ll pay for it!”
“No!” Jeremy was flabbergasted. He could not believe the thought had actually formed in his father’s head.
“No?”
“No, sir!” Jeremy repeated. “We can’t… she can’t… she’s not going to… She already decided to keep it!"
Judge Malcolm glared at him. “You can’t? Let me tell you something, you haven’t a choice in this one. I don’t care how old you think you are. I am still your father, and I am telling you that you are not in any position – financially or psychologically – to bear the responsibility of raising a child, so the same way you managed to talk her into having sex with you, the same way you will talk her into agreeing to the abortion. And if you muck that up as you tend to do with everything, tell her I will not only pay for the procedure but I will write her a nice healthy cheque so she can buy back some self-esteem.”
“She doesn’t need your money!”
Judge Malcolm began dialling a number. “What you talking about? Everybody needs money!”
“Everybody except Samantha Persaud.”
***
Samantha pulled the hairbrush though her hair and watched as the lights danced through her newly restored blonde highlights. The hairdresser had been so kind as to cut her a fringe to conceal the wretched map of acne that had suddenly appeared on her forehead. Just one of the many wonderful side effects of being pregnant. She suddenly had the skin of a teenager again. There was a knock on the bathroom door that separated her room from Andie's.
"What's up?" Samantha asked, glad that the coolness between them since the day that Andie had blurted out to their parents that she was pregnant seemed to be evaporating. Her sister was her best friend really, and she hated any angst between them.
"Nothin' at all," Andie responded. "Just checking if you were ready for dinner. Your hair looks nice. Vanessa cut you a bang!"
"I'm breaking out," Samantha explained. "Baby hormones."
"Right..." Andie sat at the edge of her sister's crisply made bed. "So how did it go?"
"How did what go?"
"Your lunch with Jeremy!"
Samantha frowned. "We didn't have lunch, and I don't want to talk about it."
"C'mon! Tell me. What did Jeremy say? Did you work out together what you are going to do? What did the two of you decide?"
Samantha replaced the brush to her dresser. Jeremy had decided all right. He had worked out some preposterous dolly house in his head. Marry her. She would be his little wife? And he had actually thought that she would have agreed? He must have been high. Not at all! Never in a million years would she marry and settle down with that cocky, conceited, sorry excuse for a man.
"We didn't have to decide on anything, Andie. I already know what I’m going to do. I'm gonna do what Mommy and Daddy suggested - sit out this year from school, deal with this tragedy and raise my baby by myself."
Andie frowned. She did not consider her future nephew to be a tragedy. An unplanned arrival but certainly not a tragedy. She would like to think that if Jeremy was any measure of a man he would feel the same. "And Jeremy agrees with that?"
"I don't care what Jeremy wants or agrees with!" Samantha snapped, getting annoyed. "I'm having this baby alone!"
"But do you think that’s such a good idea?" Andie did not want to upset her sister. Bianca said upsetting her would not be good for the baby. She had not reached the end of the first trimester yet, and could still miscarry. "I mean, you won’t be alone, technically. You have Mommy and Daddy and me. But Sam, every child needs a father. Leaving Jeremy out of this isn't fair to the baby."
"My child doesn't need Jeremy!" Samantha insisted. "Jeremy doesn't want a baby and I am not going to force one on him."
Andie was stunned. "Jeremy said that? That he didn't want the baby?"
Samantha pulled her fingers through her hair, upsetting her perfectly coiffed bang. "Look, please don't harass me this evening, Andie. I told you Jeremy Malcolm isn't in this and I mean it. Now I said I don’t want to talk about this anymore!"
Andie did not get the chance to comment before Christopher burst into the room, and made a beeline to Samantha's stomach.
"Hey baby! How's it hanging?" He screamed.
"Christopher, don't come in here without knocking!" Samantha chastised. "And why are you shouting into my belly button?"
"I want the baby to recognise my voice!" Christopher explained.
"I don't think it has ears yet," Samantha told him, rolling her eyes.
"Well I'm not taking any chances," Christopher decided. "He lowered his head to his sister's stomach once more. "This is your Uncle Christopher. You hold on tight in there, okay baby? And you grow big and strong. When you come out, we are going to be best friends!"
Andie smiled. Samantha scoffed.
"I really don't like you sometimes."
"I don't care!" Christopher shrugged. "No one is going to steal my joy. Mommy says you must come down for dinner now. And your boyfriend is here."
Samantha’s heart leapt. "Micah is here? What on earth is he doing here?"
"Not Micah! He isn't your boyfriend anymore. He said his name is Jeremy!"
Samantha thought she might pass out. Jeremy? What the hell? Didn't she tell him to go away? Good Lord, he was like a frigging sarcoma!
Samantha got angrier and angrier as she sat across from him at the dinner table. Apparently, he had decided not to take her advice and go back to Montego Bay, or hell, but had called her father at Persaud Financials and invited himself to dinner. He was determined to be useful, he had told Dr Persaud, and he wanted to do whatever he could to make the next 30 weeks as easy as possible for Samantha.
He wasn’t making this easy for her, Samantha thought. He was making it so much more difficult. It was bad enough that she had his foetus inside of her, draining her of all her energy, and causing her to become an emotional pin ball with bad skin. It was bad enough that she woke up every morning, with her stomach turning inside out, and that Rosilda was already giving her a hard time because of the constant throwing up. It was enough that she already had to put her life and future on hold for one whole year because of him, and she would have to find a way to tell the rest of her family that she had gotten pregnant from a one night stand. Not to mention the fall out when TATTLER finally got wind of the true story. Samantha felt that she had enough stress, and Jeremy was complicating her life that much more. He was a smart man. MBA from Columbia, Gamma Sigma and student speaker, as he was telling her father. Why couldn't he understand five simple words: I. Don't. Want. You. Here!
She stabbed at a cherry tomato on her plate, pretending that the prongs of the fork were going through Jeremy's thick skull.
"So when do you go back to New York?" Dr Persaud was asking.
"At the end of August," Jeremy responded. "I actually start working the Monday after Labour Day, but I wanted to go back a couple weeks early to set up my apartment and take care of a few things.
"How long did you sign on at Persaud Financials for
?" Mrs Persaud asked.
"Two years, renewable, depending on whether I manage to impress Phillip. But I was thinking that perhaps I could just do the first year and transfer to the Kingston office so I can be close to Samantha..."
"I don't want you within breathing distance of me!" Samantha growled.
"Well, that's unfortunate, Samantha," Jeremy responded, looking at her. "Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I'm going to be here for you, whether you like it or not."
Andie smiled as she glanced at her sister. Just as she thought. Jeremy did want the baby.
Samantha scoffed, but didn't say anything else.
"Have you told your parents what's going on?" Dr Persaud asked.
"I did, actually. Understandably they were surprised, but..." He frowned to himself. That was the understatement to end all understatements. Jeremy recalled that afternoon. His father had jumped up and down like a lunatic after he told him that the girl he was planning to buy off was Ravi Persaud’s granddaughter. He had called Jeremy every derogatory word he could think of. Some, Jeremy was positive, he even made up! Then he had picked up the phone and dialled. Jeremy hoped he was not calling some weird and clandestine abortion doctor.
“Joan, you would not believe what your idiot son did!” He had screamed into the phone, and Jeremy’s heart sank.
Even worse, he had called his mother.
Jeremy could hear her crying through the phone and he felt like a worm. He had made his mother cry.
The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Jasmine. But what did Jasmine know? She was only seventeen, and in her little hearts and candies world, becoming an aunt to a Persaud baby was the most awesome thing that could ever happen. One thing Jeremy’s parents had said and that he totally agreed with was that he had to be there for Samantha. This was his chance to prove to her that he had grown well beyond being the loser he was in undergraduate, and that he was going to be a mature and responsible father.
"Do you have a sister? Or a brother?" Christopher asked.
"One sister," Jeremy told him. "Her name is Jasmine."