The One I've Waited For

by Mary B. Morrison

  “Conner is my biological father. If what Bing said is true, Mother would still be with Spencer.”

  “Regardless of the fact that we now know Spencer is not your brother, you fucked our mother’s man. So no, she wouldn’t be with Spencer. You probably don’t know who your baby daddy is,” Sandara angrily said.

  I’d put my money on Sandara being right, but she was not one to talk. What planet did Alexis come from? If she were in mother’s position, Alexis would not be with a man whom her daughter fucked. Slowly, I stared at Alexis with disgust. She was butt ugly on the inside.

  Alexis’s eyes locked with mine. “Even if Mother is telling the truth, which I don’t believe her one bit, I have papers that prove otherwise. I’m not going backward for nobody and I mean nobody. None of you had better tell Spencer. It’ll hurt him more than it will me anyway.”

  Reasoning with Alexis was a waste of all our time. “Mother didn’t tell us, lil girl, Bing did. End of that discussion. Rule number one: let Mother do the talking first. Two: regardless of whether you agree or disagree with anything she says, do not interrupt her. She might shut down. And if that means you keep your mouth shut, Alexis, do that or I promise you I’ll put my foot in it.”

  “Is that why your husband is still seeing his mistress?” Snapping her fingers twice, she exhaled, then added, “Now I’m done talking.”

  Determined not to let her win, again, calmly I continued. “Three: let’s give Mother a group hug soon as we walk in the door.”

  “Forget all these rules. Let’s let the situation unfold naturally,” Devereaux said, leading the way up the stairs.

  I rang the doorbell.

  Mother’s hair was uncombed. Her eyelids were puffy. Devereaux initiated wrapping her arms around Mother. I joined in. Sandara embraced all of us.

  Alexis stepped sideways, squeezed through the opening between us and the door, went into the living room, and sat on the love seat next to Bing.

  CHAPTER 36

  Blake

  I could almost count on one finger the number of times all my children held me.

  The door was wide open. I leaned my head on Mercedes’s shoulder.

  The worst migraine I had came from the effect my secret (turned lie) had had on them. My intent was to take the embarrassment to my grave. In ten, twenty, thirty, forty years, they might’ve discovered the truth at my funeral. If they never knew what I’d done that would be best for everyone, including Bing.

  Mercedes was not to fault for her controlling ways. Bing had shared she was the one who’d convinced the others to be here. I told Bing I wished he hadn’t interfered.

  “I’m sorry. Mama should’ve let all of you know”—I couldn’t say the truth—“a lot sooner.”

  “I would’ve done the same, Mama,” Sandara wept. “All you did was try to protect us.”

  “You’re the strongest woman I know,” Devereaux said, leading me to the sofa. She positioned herself to my right.

  Mercedes comforted me from the other side. Sandara sat at my feet, placed her head against my thigh. Mucus streamed down my leg. I could tell her tears were for both of us.

  Alexis was where I expected her, on the love seat next to my man. Knees flush together, ankles cutely crossed.

  I heard Bing tell her, “Go sit with your mother, baby girl. She needs you.”

  “I just came for confirmation. I already know my—”

  “This is not going to turn out well for you if you don’t move.” Bing had gotten a small, make that tiny, dose of what was coming from that one.

  “But she was twenty-two when Devereaux was born? Y’all really believe her? Sounds more like affairs than incest. Just saying.”

  Let her stay next to him. Honestly, I didn’t want Alexis near me. She came at his command. Plopped by Devereaux, reached in and held my hand. I pulled away.

  “Mother, why didn’t you let us know?” Mercedes questioned.

  “Don’t ask her that,” Sandara said, clinging to my leg the way she used to when she was a toddler.

  Bing stood, cleared his throat, then approached us. “I’m going to say this, then I’m going to let you guys have all the time you need.”

  Through heavy tears, I looked at the handsome man before me. Crying in his arms a few moments ago felt better than having my girls nurse me. I was tired of being alone. I needed a man, a husband, a companion I could cuddle and travel with. I needed a man to . . .

  “I love your mother. I’m honored to be her fiancé. She knows my story. You guys do too. Sometimes we have to let go of things that hurt us. I’m here if any of you need me for anything,” he said, gazing into my eyes.

  Soon as all those tears and the ink dried on my marriage certificate, Mama was shutting down the charity factory.

  Alexis placed her hand on her stomach, then said, “Thanks, Bing.”

  Seeing him shift his attention to her, I bit the inside of my mouth.

  “Baby girl. I am your mother’s fiancé. She is my woman. When you disrespect her, you disrespect me. When you hurt her, you hurt me. That goes for all of our girls. I’ll give each of you the world. But not at the expense of losing my soon-to-be wife. I want you girls to help Blake plan our wedding. I love you, sweetheart. If you need me, I’m a call away. I have a meeting to go to.”

  Bing leaned over, gave me a kiss, then left.

  The second the door closed, Alexis sarcastically told Mercedes, “You forgot your own rules.”

  This lil girl would steal the shine from a spotlight. “Please,” I pleaded with Alexis. “Not now.”

  She lamented, “Conner is my dad. I don’t care what you say. Who would go to the extreme of lying about something you have no control over? We did a paternity test.”

  We all stared at her. I knew the baby that she’d claimed she miscarried never existed. She lied and said it was for either James or Spencer. Alexis had to have everyone’s attention revolving around her every second.

  No denying she’d inherited my ability to weave a believable lie. I’d fabricated a story for Spencer. When he’d asked if I’d had sex with any other man since I’d met him, I said what I knew he wanted to hear right before he’d slid a relationship ring on my finger. What good would it have done for me to be honest?

  The girls didn’t need to know why I’d been terminated from my job. I’d never tell them that it was Alexis’s and Sandara’s fault. What mattered most was despite Alexis’s attempts to toy with my man’s affection and ruin my engagement, I’d earned Bing’s love, trust, and respect.

  Alexis stared at me. “When I find out your lie, I am going to tell Bing.”

  I snapped. “You need to pack your bags, move out of Spencer’s house, leave the keys to his cars, give him his millions, and take your ungrateful ass and your unborn back to James. I’m sure Chanel won’t mind letting you sleep in the guest room.”

  “I hate you!” Alexis yelled. “I should’ve aborted mine too!”

  Mercedes shook her head. “I so see where I get it from.”

  Devereaux mumbled, “Lord, thank You for not letting me put her on payroll.”

  Alexis told Devereaux. “I don’t need your money!”

  Sandara stood. This confrontation should’ve never materialized. Bing should’ve stayed out of my personal business. Ruby had better take everything to her grave this time. The new tracks I’d made were covered with premeditated deceit. I’d routed Bing to my eldest sister, Ruby, who’d agreed to settle for five million dollars, to tell him that her life story was mine.

  Everybody had at least one secret.

  “Say something else to me or mama,” my baby girl told Alexis.

  Alexis rubbed her stomach. “Can’t stand up to any of your babies’ daddy but you all up on me? What you gon’ do? Nobody was talk—”

  Smack! Sandara’s backhand swept across Alexis’s face. The toe of Alexis’s shoe jabbed Sandara’s pubic area. Sandara grabbed Alexis’s foot, tried to snatch her off the sofa. Devereaux braced Alexis, then yelled at Sa
ndara, “Let her go!”

  “Stop it! You always have to ruin everything!” Mercedes shouted at Alexis. Each movement happened in split seconds. The action was over and I was trying to figure out how did we get here?

  I watched Alexis scream, “I hope Bing leaves you!”

  Softly, I told her, “You need to get your things out of your brother’s house today. And don’t call my fiancé to help you.”

  Conner was Alexis’s father. Watching her squirm felt good. She was the ultimate user. If Alexis lost everything today, she’d find a way to get it back tomorrow.

  No one deserved to go to hell for lying. I definitely did not want to run into my father if I made it past the pearly gates. If God didn’t discipline me, my mother was going to beat my behind real good all over heaven.

  Ruby’s too.

  CHAPTER 37

  Alexis

  No house. No cars. No cash. Why would Blake want to do this to me? I knew why. She was jealous of her own daughter. I was what she wasn’t. An alpha female boss.

  The thought of giving it all back made the sweetness of my inheritance sour in my mouth. I was not birthing a baby into poverty. Refused to trust Bing would take care of us. James and Chanel were not raising my child.

  I had to do what I had to do. My mother left me no choice.

  Backing up on his huge dick, I looked over my shoulder, then yelled, “Deeper!”

  “Whoa, slow down,” he said, then told me, “This is the best pussy I have ever had. I want to enjoy this shit.”

  If I had a dollar for every time I’d heard men and women tell me that I was their best in bed, hell I’d never gotten a W2. I was here to handle my business.

  To abort or not to abort was my constitutional right. Bet if these pussy-chasing, adulterous, escort-hiring, prostitute-paying, dick-sucking, porn-watching, male politicians were incarcerated for impregnating a woman before they put a ring on it they’d respect my vagina and my right to choose what I wanted to do with my body.

  Dude was chilling; his fingers were wrapped around the monkey bars of my canapé. “Fuck me like it’s your last time getting some pussy!” I couldn’t grab his hands, placed them on my waist, and hold on to the headboard at the same damn time.

  “You don’t mean that,” he said, rippling his abs. “I’m trying not to hurt you. My dick has a reputation for being hazardous.” He nodded, then winked.

  “Do your thang. This pussy is built for big dicks, dude.”

  I had references. My fiancé, James Wilcox. My mom’s ex, Spencer Domino. And a host of other whores.

  Pretty boys were the worst. Gave him a chance because ballers were known for head bangin’. He was recently recruited to our football team but this chick did not qualify to be in my rotation.

  I was six months, but I wasn’t ready to become a single mother. Refused to struggle the way our mother had done with us after not one, not two, or three, but four men impregnated, then abandoned her.

  Clueless about motherhood, I came to the realization that I didn’t know how to change a baby’s diaper nor did I want to figure the shit out.

  After leaving my mom’s house, I refused to schedule another appointment. I didn’t need them. An Uber driver could’ve gotten me home from a clinic but I wasn’t brave enough to go alone to have my pregnancy terminated. Since no one cared about me, I had to find another way before my stomach resembled a basketball.

  Wait. That was it. My mother wanted Spencer to have my financial flow so he could be with her if things didn’t work out with Bing. She always believed she was entitled to my inheritance.

  Backing up on his salami, I looked over my shoulder again, then yelled again, “Deeper!”

  Nya was practically a fourth child to Sandara. What was Devereaux going to do when Sandara stepped back onto the runway?

  Not my problem.

  My entire life my mom was preoccupied with working, sleeping, or dating ruthless men that never stuck around. With the exception of the man-sticking-around part, Devereaux was missing out on Nya’s childhood.

  How in the fuck did Mom have four kids and not one of our fathers thought highly enough of her to put their last name on our birth certificate? I should legally flip from Crystal to Rogers.

  All men were good for was fucking or trying to get fucked. Literally. I hated all of them, including my deadbeat dead-ass father. Didn’t care if he did will me this mansion, all of his luxury cars, and $2.5 million. He’d probably only done it because he hadn’t invested anything worthwhile in any woman, including me. Now my mother had created the most hideous lie.

  “Faster, man!” I yelled, praying for a miscarriage.

  The siblings I had. The women I knew. They were all too damn emotional. Didn’t know their fucking value.

  “Chill out,” he replied, grinding.

  “Deeper and faster. Can you do both at the same damn time, nigga!” If I wasn’t on a mission, I’d throw this lame out of my house on his balls. Surely, I’d chosen to bring home the wrong dick tonight.

  “Girl, I am trying to make love to you,” he said, dragging out the “l” word with the heaviest Georgian accent I’d heard.

  I swear I wanted to pull out my nightstand drawer, get my gun, and hit him upside both of his heads. My wallet was wetter than my ass. I didn’t have to pretend I wanted to breastfeed an infant.

  Long as Alexis Crystal was, as my peeps claimed, using everybody—I say positively influencing my man, girlfriend, and family to give me whatever I wanted—people didn’t recognize that I had feelings.

  “Chick, you’d better beat this pussy like somebody stole your brand-new Hummer that’s in my driveway.” Dude stopped midstroke.

  Money did not make his dumb ass smart. I mumbled, “You must’ve had too many brain injuries on and off the field.”

  “What?” he said, yanking my hair.

  “Bitch, let go! You can’t do shit right! Not even hike a ball. That’s why your ass is fucking third string.”

  “Fuck you,” he grunted. “You not my daddy.”

  “Actually, I am your motherfucking daddy.” He’d call me that if he knew what I was capable of doing to his asshole. “Okay, maybe from all the contact, you’re hard of hearing.”

  This dude should’ve never been in my bed but I’d given up on going to the clinic. One way or another, this chick and this baby had to go.

  “Okay, bitch! You want this dick?” he asked.

  “What dick? I can’t feel anything.”

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! He fucked me fast and hard. I was speechless.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! My head hit the wooden part of my headboard. Tried to reposition myself in front of the cushion.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Tried to holler, Bitch, stop! That’s enough! Nothing came out.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! “I can’t hear you. You trying to say something?”

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! “I’m cumming,” he hollered, releasing semen deep inside my vagina.

  If he was messing up my night, I was returning the favor. When he pulled out, I screamed, “Nigga, you crazy!” digging, then dragging my pointed nails deep into his thighs.

  “Ow! Bitch! You crazy!” he said, collapsing sideways onto my Egyptian sheets. “I gave you what your ass begged for. All you females talking about how we don’t care, but you don’t give a brotha the opportunity to satisfy you. Damn. You messed up my legs.”

  “Your legs,” I hissed, “were jacked up before you got here.” Cupping my ears, I stared in his face. “You need to leave.” My head was throbbing.

  Placing his hands behind his head, he bent his knees, planted his feet on the mattress. “You’ll be all right. You got a nice ass, cool spot, rolling on wheels fit for a boss lady, all that but you ’bout the craziest chick I’ve met in my life. If I hadn’t cum in you, I’d swear you had a dick. I like that, though.”

  Hmm. I could strap-on for this dude the way I’d done for Spencer’s friend LB and he’d be in paradise like James. A sharp pain darte
d up my neck. “Ow.”

  He laughed as his body shivered. “You weren’t talking a buncha shit at the bar an hour ago. You invited me over ’cause you like me. I’m feeling yo’ ass too. I’ma have two tickets waiting for you at the box office for Monday night’s game. Come here. Let Daddy massage that crick.”

  I didn’t have minutes to waste on watching him stroll the sideline like the cheerleader he was. Lying about how good he ate pussy and telling the truth about how big his shit was got him here. I stood, stumbled, composed myself best as I could.

  Had to let dude know. “You suck at suckin’. Those three sorry licks on my clit with your dry-ass tongue didn’t get me wet. Raise up.” I snatched his hands from underneath his head. “Get out my house.” I plowed a king-size bamboo pillow against his chest.

  Grabbing the pillow, he threw it to the floor. “The old me would show you just how street I really am,” he said, sitting on the side of my bed. “All you bitches are fucked up,” he said, shoving me. I stumbled backward.

  Why was I wasting my time with this arrogant asshole? Opening my drawer, I took out my gun and pointed it at him, then twisted my wrist sideways. “Ten, nine . . .” I didn’t get to five before he was dressed with his shoes in hand.

  Following him down twenty steps, I kept counting. I didn’t wait for his second foot to clear the threshold. I slammed my front door.

  “Get help. Professional help. You easy, bitch,” he said, then kicked my door.

  Let’s see how much pussy he gets when he’s cut from the team. I could cry rape but too many niggas and bitches would probably rise from my past and the grave in his defense.

  I watched him climb into his SUV. He gunned his engine, and his tires spun creating a cloud of smoke before he sped off my property making a screeching sound.

  I’d never shot anyone. Dude came close to being my first. If Alexis Crystal was getting her mug shot taken, someone was going to be ICU- or cemetery-bound.

  Returning to my bedroom, I slipped on a pink satin spaghetti-strap teddy, then checked my cell. No texts or missed calls. Staring at my bed, I touched my vagina.