by Teisha Mott
“Jeremy suggested ‘Jada’ earlier,” Samantha said, arranging a second turkey burger. She piled extra sweet pickles on the patty, convinced that Jeremy had called ahead and told his mother that pickles were her newest craving. “Isn’t that really cute?”
Jeremy did a double take. Didn’t she yell at him earlier for suggesting Jada? What was she playing at?
“Well I think you should call her Belle,” Judge Malcolm suggested. “Because one thing is for sure – she is going to be a beauty like her mother!”
“Thank you, Judge Malcolm, but in the meantime, I have to put up with her sending me to the little girls room every two minutes!” Samantha said. “Where do I go…”
“I’ll take you!” Jasmine offered quickly.
Both girls left the table, and Jeremy was left alone with his parents.
“So you really got Ravi Persaud’s granddaughter pregnant!” Judge Malcolm commented, folding his napkin.
Jeremy looked at him. He offered no response.
Judge Malcolm shook his head. “Bwoy, looks can be deceiving, eh? I look at her and I see a pretty, charming, intelligent girl. How the hell she could have purposely slept with you, much less let you get her pregnant is beyond me!”
Still, Jeremy said nothing. He was wondering how long it would take for his father to start acting like this. He knew his syrupy sweet smiles and compliments in Samantha’s presence would not have lasted. He had only hoped the judge would have waited until she was at least off the property!
“So, you sure it’s yours?”
Jeremy gasped.
“Peter!” Mrs Malcolm admonished.
“I have to ask!” Judge Malcolm said. “You can never tell with girls like those…
“What do you mean ‘girls like those’?” Jeremy asked through clenched teeth.
“You know what I mean, Jeremy!” Judge Malcolm replied. “You’re not totally retarded. Don’t think that because her last name is Persaud she is above giving you a jacket! You better get a paternity test!”
Jeremy pushed his chair back. “It’s mine, Daddy. I don’t need a paternity test!”
“What you getting upset about?” Judge Malcolm asked. “Nobody is questioning your virility. All I am saying is that you better be sure you are the father before you sign your life over to that girl and her baby. And what makes you so confident that it is yours? If she would sleep with you, only God knows who else she would sleep with!”
“Peter, please!” Mrs Malcolm pleaded. “How can you say things like that?”
“You know something, Mummy? It’s okay!” Jeremy was determined not to lose his temper. “Let him say whatever he wants. I am too old to be bothered by his criticism…”
Judge Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Jeremy, you exasperate me! Not everything I say is meant as criticism!”
“No, I know that!” Jeremy snapped. “Some of it is meant as judgment!”
“Watch your tone with me, young man!” Judge Malcolm warned, and Jeremy lowered his eyes. He pushed his salad around his plate, having officially lost his appetite. He wondered why Samantha and Jasmine were taking so long in the bathroom.
“Jeremy, Peter! What is wrong with the two of you?” Mrs Malcolm began to get cross. “Can’t you sit down and eat one meal without quarrelling with each other like children?”
“Me?” Judge Malcolm pointed to himself. “Your son is the one who you must talk to. I try to give the idiot sage advice, and he starts fruffing up like a blasted fowl!”
“Don’t call me an idiot!” Jeremy angrily pounded his fist into the table, almost upsetting his lemonade.
“And I said you don’t raise your voice to me in my house!” Judge Malcolm roared.
“Jeremy! Peter!” Mrs Malcolm kept her eyes trained on the patio door, praying that Samantha would not come back and witness this brewing fight. “Please don't quarrel. Not now. Peter, don't call him an idiot...”
“I’m not a baker Joan! I don’t sugar coat things. He does idiotic things, I call him an idiot...”
Jeremy stood. “Mummy, when Samantha comes from the bathroom we are leaving!”
"Jeremy, your father is only trying to be helpful. Don't get angry..."
“Let him get angry!” Judge Malcolm continued. “And you know who he should be angry with? He should be angry with his damn self! Of all the idiotic things he has managed to do, this one takes the cake!” He turned to his son. “All your life you have acted like a fool, running up and down Montego Bay with your blasted dick ruling your head. And just when we think you might actually amount to something, you pull crap like this. You think a child is a plaything? You think you know anything about being a father?”
“Well, I don’t think I could possibly be a worse father to my daughter than you have been to me!” Jeremy snapped.
Judge Malcolm did a double take. “What you just say to me?”
“Jeremy, for the love of God...”
“I said I can’t possibly be a worse father than you!” Jeremy repeated, losing the grip he had on his temper. “I may not have planned this baby, and I may not be ready to be a father, but I am going to be way better father than you have ever been to me and Jasmine, cause you don’t have any idea how to love your children.”
Judge Malcolm offered a wry laugh. “Well, is that right? I don’t know how to love my children. I am a bad father. After all I have done for you, you ungrateful...”
“You have done nothing for me!” Jeremy seethed. “You have done nothing for me, except criticise me and condescend towards me and yell at me and make me feel like I am no damn good!”
“Jeremy, please don’t say things like that to upset your father!” Mrs Malcolm was desperately trying to keep the peace, but failing miserably. “Suppose Samantha comes out here and hear you talking to him like that.”
“Mummy, I’m tired. I’m not going to put up with this crap anymore. I am grown man, and I’m going to be a father. I have a lot going on right now, and I would have really appreciated my father’s love and support, but clearly that is too much to ask!”
“You want me to be proud of you, Jeremy? You want me to support your carelessness, and love the fact that you are fathering an illegitimate child? You want me to go and brag to everybody that my son knocked up Ravi Persaud’s granddaughter? Am I supposed to be impressed because you managed to permanently screw up your life? Well, let the record show that I am not proud of you, and I am not impressed with you!”
“Peter…”
“Well, that’s not news!” Jeremy retorted. “All I have ever done all my life is tried to please you, but nothing I do is ever good enough for you!” He looked at his father. “Well, I am finished trying. You think whatever you want to think and say whatever you want to say. Be impressed with me, or not. I don’t care anymore! I have come to realise that you are just a mean-spirited bully, and you can only feel good when you are making everyone around you feel like crap!”
Joan Malcolm buried her head in her hands. “Can’t you two even try…”
“I tried, Mummy. Believe me, I have been trying for as long as I can remember...”
“You don’t try hard enough!”
Jeremy looked at his mother, feeling sorry for her. “I’m sorry!” He whispered. “I think we should really go.”
“Yes!” The judge snarled. “Leave! Run away, you damn drama queen!” He shook his head. “Just be grateful you are having a daughter. That way, you will never have to live through the horror of having a son who turns out to be a complete disappointment like you! You know, I don’t know what booby prize in hell I won to end up with you in my life. I swear to God that most times it is like I don’t even have a son!”
Jeremy blinked back the tears that had formed in his eyes. “Well, for once we are on the same page, Judge Malcolm! Because for most of my life, it’s like I never had a father!”
***
Samantha glanced over at Jeremy. He was staring straight ahead, his hands on the steering wheel in the perfect ten o�
��clock/two-o’clock position. Something had happened in the moments she had been in the bathroom. She had no idea what. All she knew was that the second she and Jasmine had returned to the pool deck, Jeremy announced that they were ready to go. Mrs Malcolm looked upset, Judge Malcolm was scowling like a thundercloud, and Jasmine was disappointed. Samantha sighed. She was disappointed, too. She had wanted to stay longer, and was looking forward to getting to know Jeremy’s parents and sister. But Jeremy was adamant.
“Are you okay, Jeremy?” She ventured finally.
Jeremy’s response was a nonchalant grunt.
“Kind of a sudden escape we made!” She commented again.
This time Jeremy did not respond at all. He just bit the corner of his lip as he pulled up at a stop light.
“What’s the matter? Did you quarrel with your father?”
No response.
“What did you quarrel about? Is he upset you aren’t giving him a grandson? Men have a thing for grandsons. Don’t ask me why!”
Still no response. The light changed to green and he continued to drive. It was coming up to five, and he wanted them to get back to Kingston before seven. Nathan had said something about taking Andie out to dinner at seven. He had not remembered to take his key, and if Nathan was not at the apartment when he got there, he would have to stay with Samantha until he got home. Jeremy was not in the mood to hang out with Samantha. He just wanted to be alone.
“Hey, look what Jasmine gave me,” Samantha said. She opened her satchel and pulled out a doll. “It’s her kewpie doll. Well, she didn’t give it to me, really. It is for Caitlin. It used to be hers, but she doesn’t play with it anymore, obviously. That was nice of her, don’t you think?”
Jeremy cleared his throat, flipped on the indicator and overtook two little old people in a Volvo. He thought that people over eighty should not be allowed to drive. They were just too slow.
“She says his name is Petey!” Samantha looked at Jeremy and smiled. “She said you named him actually. You aren’t bad at picking out names. He looks like a Petey, right?”
More lip biting. More scowling. Not the sexy/angry Will Smith in Bad Boys 2 scowl, but an unnerved, sad and upset scowl; the ‘I would curl up into a little ball and cry my eyes out if only I wasn’t a big grown man’ scowl. Samantha hoped he would not break into tears. She hoped he would tell her what was wrong with him. Who had upset him? She knew it was not her, and it was not Jasmine or his mother, so it must have been his father. But Judge Malcolm was not an upsetting person. He was a sweetheart!
“Jasmine said you named Petey after yourself,” she continued, really trying to get him to talk to her. “She told me your middle name is Peter, like your father. I didn’t know your middle name is Peter. Jeremy Peter Malcolm. That is a really nice, strong name. My middle name is Charlotte...”
Still no response.
“Hey, perhaps we can make Caitlin’s middle name ‘Jada’. Do you like that? Caitlin Jada Malcolm!”
He didn’t even glance at her.
Samantha sighed. “Jeremy, you really going to be like that? You not going to talk to me?”
Enough was enough. Jeremy finally snapped. “Talk to you? Really, Samantha? I have been trying to talk to you since April, and all you have been telling me is shut up or go away, and now all in a sudden you want me to talk to you?”
Samantha was taken aback. Jeremy had never snapped at her like that before. Or if he had, those times she had deserved it. This time she hadn’t done anything. He had wanted her to meet his family and she had gone, and now he was suddenly pissed at her.
“Jeremy, I...” She began.
“I don’t want to talk right now, alright?” Jeremy said firmly. “Just be quiet. Spend time in your thoughts, or listen to your music and leave me alone.”
“Fine!” Samantha took out her iPod once more and turned it on. But she was bored with those songs. She had listened to them over and over on the drive down and really was not interested in hearing them again. She pulled out Petey, her baby’s new doll, and looked at it. She wondered what kind of little boy Jeremy had been. He must have been a really kind big brother to name his sister’s doll. Dylan and Darrin had not named any of Klao’s dolls. In fact, she remembered once Klao had been forced to play with a decapitated Barbie for weeks until Aunt Kim had found her head in a shoe box under Darrin’s bed. Jasmine was lucky to have a big brother like Jeremy. Jasmine told her that despite the six years age difference, Jeremy used to play with her, and he had always protected her. Protected her from what or whom, Samantha did not know, but she felt confident that their daughter could not have a better father.
Samantha sighed again. The silence in the Rav4 was maddening. Jeremy was not going to talk to her. He was clearly in a mood, and she had no idea what to do. She had never seen him like that before. Getting into moods were her thing, not his. She thought about Micah for a while. Micah used to get into a mood every now and again. She had learned that the best way to deal with him was to ignore him until it was over. She wondered if the same thing would work with Jeremy. She pushed her hair back and looked out the window and studied the scenery. It was better than studying Jeremy’s handsome profile, which appeared to be chiselled in stone.
Finally, Samantha could not take it anymore. The silence and the brooding were going to drive her crazy.
“Jeremy, tell me what is wrong with you. Maybe I can help...”
“Why didn’t you take the Plan B?”
That was the last thing she expected him to ask her. He had never asked her that before. “Excuse me?”
“Why didn’t you take the damn Plan B? I bought them, I gave them to you. What happened when you got home? Why didn’t you take them?”
“Jeremy, I did take them!”
“No, you didn’t! If you had we wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t be pregnant!”
“Jeremy, I...”
He was in a brand new rage. “Why did you do this? This is your fault, you know. All of this! I told you take the frigging Plan B because I did not want you to get pregnant and you didn’t take them!”
Samantha felt like crap. She willed herself not to start crying. “I told you I took them. I may have taken them late but I took them. I made a mistake…”
“You made a mistake? You think that is helpful now?”
“It may not be helpful, but it’s the truth!” Samantha was determined not to cry. Jeremy was in a bad mood for some reason totally unknown to her, but she was not going to let him break her. She was not going to let him see her cry. “I made a mistake. I’m not perfect…”
“No, you aren’t, but that doesn’t stop you from believing you are!”
“How dare you!”
“Do you know what your ‘mistake’ has caused? Because of your ‘mistake’, I am going to be a father. I am twenty-frigging-three years old. I have my whole life ahead of me. The last thing in the world I want is to be a father!”
Samantha could not believe this was happening. This was a conversation they should have had months before, from May. He should have told her that he did not want to be around, instead of hovering, and taking her to the doctor, and making her start to like him, and sit at nights imagining all sorts of happy scenarios including the two of them and Caitlin. Her eyes turned green with rage. “Well, I told you from day one that I wanted to do this by myself! I told you I didn’t need you! I told you to forget me and go home. You are the one who insisted on sticking around and doing everything, so you do not get to yell at me!”
“No!” Jeremy snapped. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to turn me into one of those careless men, who do not take care of their children. You’ve already cost me my friendship with Phillip, you almost made me lose my job and you have pretty much decimated any hope I had of having a decent relationship with my father! You are not going to turn me into a bigger loser than he already thinks I am!”
Samantha was confused. “What are you talking about? Your father doesn’t th
ink you are a loser. He adores you!”
“My father does not adore me, Samantha. My father thinks I’m an idiot.”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous! He’s your father. He’s obligated to love you even when he thinks you act like an idiot!”
Jeremy didn’t appreciate her offering ignorant commentary on a situation that stung him to the core. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.
“You don’t know anything about me or about my father or the crap I’ve had to put up with all my life!” He snapped. “You weren’t there, Samantha. You were busy inside playing dolly house with Jasmine when I had to be out there, listening to him remind me how much of an idiot I am, and how I am mucking up my life and your life and his life and the life of goddamn Pi!”
“But you didn’t…”
“You weren’t there when I was six and fell off my bicycle and cried, and instead of comforting me, my father told me that I should man up, and that I was a spineless little worm who deserved nothing but the profoundest contempt. You were happy living your life as Princess Samantha when I was eight and couldn’t understand long division and my father told me that on an IQ scale of 1 to 10, my rating was so far into negative numbers that he would need to travel into another quantum reality in order to even catch a glimpse of it…. Or when I was fifteen and he told me that I was walking, talking proof that one doesn’t have to be sentient to survive. Oh, and the best one was when I was seventeen and my father, who you say is obligated to love me, told me that I was a sperm that should have been captured in a condom and flushed down a toilet!”
Samantha gasped. Good Lord! What kind of man was Judge Malcolm? What kind of father had Jeremy grown up with? Most importantly, how in God’s name had he managed to turn out normal? That he amounted to anything at all, after all the verbal abuse he had suffered, proved that he must be impervious!
“All my life I could never do anything that could possibly please him – to make him proud of me. I tried. God knows I tried… And now that I have graduated from Columbia, it seemed as though he was just coming around. Finally, he was going to see that I can come to something or do something right, and now... This is all your fault!”