200 Letters

by Amy Watkins

  “What you mean?”

  “Why is your family being so nice to me?”

  “I told you I would handle it. I sat down and talked to them; told them how I felt and what I wanted.”

  “Did you tell them that I was a doctor?”

  “They already knew you were a doctor.”

  “Ethan, you know I don’t have any money.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, my family is not after your money. They have their own money. They came around because they understand that I love you and want to be with you. I told you I was going to fix it. See? Now, when can we get started on that baby.”

  I laughed, “Baby?!”

  Ethan was silent on the other end.

  “You’re serious?” I was astounded.

  “Yes, I’m serious. Can we start now? How long does it take to get the birth control out of your system?”

  I laughed again, “As soon as I stop it, I could get pregnant.”

  “Ohhhh, can you stop right away?”

  “What? No,” I said, but I was smiling. He definitely put thoughts in my head. I hadn’t considered having more children, but now I was contemplating having one more…with him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because there are things you’ll need to do first. You need a job and you need to finalize that divorce. And I think we should be married before we start having kids. Besides, I’m old, now. I’m not sure if I want to start all over again.”

  “You’re not old, you’re only thirty-seven. People have babies well into their forties.”

  “Not, many,” I remembered how few babies I successfully delivered to people over the age of thirty-five.

  “Well we’ll talk about it more later.”

  I smiled. I was all giddy inside. A baby—is that what he really wanted? With me, he or she would be cute. I’d be happy.

  When Ethan returned from Kentucky, I was more excited than concerned. I was still upset and hurting about what happened, but in my heart, I was happy that my man was finally home. When he walked through the door, I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a kiss.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered in his ear.

  “Me too,” he whispered back and then kissed me on the cheek.

  We broke apart when feet pounded down the stairs. The kids were up and they missed him too. They ran to greet him and hug him. Aaron wanted to show Ethan a toy he was playing with and Abigail wanted him to watch some new dance steps she had perfected. David greeted Ethan then went back to playing his video games. Ethan smiled and began entertaining the kids.

  I couldn’t wait for bedtime. I hadn’t stopped my birth control as Ethan suggested. I really didn’t want to have another baby, but I didn’t wouldn’t mind practicing. However, when night came around, Ethan resisted my advances. He wanted to talk, instead.

  He sat me down and let me know that he decided that he wanted to be celibate. He figured he had been asking God for a miracle but wasn’t doing the things that God requested of as written in the Bible.

  “We are not married and sex is exclusively for marriages. Otherwise, it is a sin,” he explained.

  It sounded like a cop out to me. Was I just being used for money and a place to stay while he was really with her? Was this whole celibacy thing Naomi and Caroline’s idea? In my opinion, it was none of their business if we were fucking or not. And they damn sure shouldn’t have a say so in whether we did or didn’t. Was Ethan just catering to their requests? I definitely didn’t want to be with a man who is ruled by some other females.

  “Are you still sleeping with Caroline?” I asked.

  “What? Angela, no. Caroline and I only slept together once before you and I even started dating. And since then I haven’t been with nobody but you. I promise. I’m trying to do things right with you. I’m trying to make things right with God.”

  “This sounds like something Naomi and Caroline put you up to.”

  “I make my own decisions, Angela. This is the right thing to do.”

  I didn’t believe him. I knew their influence was all over this decision and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to stop having sex. I was a horny, healthy thirty-seven-year-old woman.

  I didn’t realize it until after I reached my thirties, but that’s when women really do hit their sexual prime and mine was full force. I felt like a teenage boy trying to coax Ethan to have sex with me. But Ethan’s will was strong— that night—and, though disgruntled, I obliged.

  Ethan’s willpower only lasted a few days, though. I never pressed him, just being around each other was enough. I was in the bathroom half naked and brushing my teeth when he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and started kissing my neck.

  “Celibacy,” I reminded him, smiling and wiggling out of his grasp.

  “I want to bend you over this sink right now and go balls deep.” He embraced me again and kissed me on my shoulder.

  I leaned back into his embrace, “Oh, yeah? No one’s stopping you, but if it was up to me, I’d rather have you on the bed.” Sex bent over the sink looks good in movies but, in real life, that shit was uncomfortable. He ran out of the bathroom and into our bedroom, stripping as he ran. I followed him and then lay down back on the bed and spread my legs. He wasted no time entering me. He gave me about three good thrusts before he came inside of me.

  “Oh, shit…I’m sorry,” he said.

  We hadn’t had sex in a while, so I was kind of expecting a quickie. I was a little disappointed that I didn’t get mine, too, and I knew he’d make it up to me later.

  I got dressed and continued with my nighttime routine. When I was putting up my hair, I got a text message.

  Caroline: Oh, so now you fucking my baby daddy, you dumb ass bitch?

  “What the fuck?” I thought and wondered what she was talking about. I deleted the message and brushed it off.

  Then I got several texts back-to-back.

  Caroline: You ugly ass bitch, you need to shave.

  That message was followed by pictures. Pictures of my bedroom, pictures of me, pictures of Ethan taking off his clothes, and pictures of the three minutes of pleasure Ethan and I had just shared. My heart beat faster and faster with each message that was sent. My nerves were completely shot.

  “Ethan!” I yelled.

  He came at a run. “What? What’s wrong?”

  I showed him the messages, “Look! that’s us.”

  “What the fuck?” he ran to the bedroom and looked at his laptop. He pressed a few buttons. “Oh, fuck, I thought that was off. I turned it off. I know I did.”

  “Turned what off?”

  “Skype, I used it earlier to talk to my mom, but I know I turned it off.”

  Another text message:

  Caroline: Ethan’s a dumb ass, I have access to his Skype account. It was still open from when he visited me. I’m sending this shit to Tracy. Old, dumb ass, acne-faced bitch.

  I showed Ethan, “Why is she so mad? If y’all not fucking, then why is she so mad that we are?”

  “I don’t know but now she’s sending me texts, too. She just sent me a whole video.”

  Ethan used his phone to call Caroline. He walked into the garage. I could hear them arguing. When he hung up the phone, he said to me, “You’re not going to like this.”

  “What?” I asked, nervous and upset.

  He let out a heavy sigh, “She want’s two thousand dollars.”

  “What?! Oh, hell no.”

  “She said she will send the pictures to Tracy if we don’t give her the money.”

  “Fuck her. I don’t have the money. And even if I did, I damn sure wouldn’t give it to her.”

  Ethan tried to call his mom and ask her to talk to Caroline on our behalf. But his mom sided with Caroline.

  “You guys should just give her what she wants. She’s mad,” Naomi said.

  I didn’t u
nderstand why Caroline was upset. She’s the one who told me to have a baby with Ethan in the first place. Now she was flipping sides again. Why? I couldn’t sleep that night. I was so anxious I stayed up all night crying. Ethan held me and tried to comfort me, apologizing a million times and each seemed sincere. I wondered if he set me up to get more money from me. How could he be so stupid as to leave Skype on and have his webcam facing the bed?

  On my way to work the next day, I called Ronda and told her the whole story. She thought it was suspicious, too. How could he make a mistake like that? Maybe it wasn’t a mistake at all.

  “Girl, this is too much. You need to kick him out,” she said.

  I cried. He seemed so sincere, and I loved him. I didn’t want to him leave but I was afraid. A text from an unknown number interrupted my conversation.

  Unknown: I want my money or else your hairy ass pussy is going to be all over the internet.

  I deleted the text and blocked that number.

  A few minutes later, a message from a different number came through:

  Unknown: Weak bitch, you woman enough to fuck my husband but not woman enough to take my texts.

  I deleted and blocked that number.

  A few hours later, another message from a different number came through:

  Unknown: Ethan is stupid, I can see all his text messages and emails, even the ones he deletes. I saw what Caroline sent him. I got his ass now. And I got you, too. I’m suing you for everything you got. I got your ass on adultery. You slut. Sleeping with my husband. I know where you live, too and I gots people that will come handle you.

  I blocked that number too, but it shook me to my core.

  A few hours later:

  Unknown: Bitch, don’t ignore me. I’m sending this video to your job. That shit will be all over the internet.

  I worked so hard to get to where I was. I left home at seventeen. I paid my own way through college and then through medical school. I was still paying back student loans. I worked hard to move my family into a peaceful house in a safe neighborhood despite being held back by an abusive husband. I sacrificed so much time and effort to get to where I was, and now I risked losing it all.

  I could not concentrate at work. I tried to hide my anxiety and my stress. I still smiled and faced my coworkers and my patients, but my heart was beating two-hundred beats per minute and my legs would not stop shaking.

  Every time I heard my phone ding or ring, I had a panic attack. When I drove home, I constantly looked in my rearview mirror to see if anyone was following me. And it went on like that for weeks. I couldn’t continue like that. I had to make an appointment to see my doctor, and when I did, I asked if she could increase my anxiety medication. She did, and she also gave me some Xanax to take as needed. It helped; but I was still scared, and it was all my fault for sinning.

  Isaiah 54:17 KJV says, “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper…” but when you sin, you form weapons against yourself and you damage your own shield. My defenses were down and I got caught. Now, I was paying for my disobedience.

  My phone rang and I jumped. My heart started racing and my hand started shaking as I picked up the phone to see who it was. “Erica,” the phone read. “Oh, thank God,” I thought.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Hey girl, what’s up?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief, “Erica, I’m so glad you are my baby mama.”

  She laughed, “Well I’m glad I’m your baby mama too. Why? What’s wrong?”

  I told her everything that was going on.

  “I love you,” she responded, “You do not deserve this. This is not a healthy relationship. You need to leave him.”

  Erica was so right, and I knew it, but my heart told me otherwise.

  “Erica, I wouldn’t know a healthy relationship if it bit me in the ass. My mom divorced my dad when I was very young and she didn’t bring anyone around until she married my stepdad and he was an ass.”

  “I don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, either. My mom brought everyone around me,” Erica replied. “She dated one looser after another and expected me to call all of them daddy. It sucked. That’s why I keep my lovers away from my kids. I do my dirt when the twins are asleep, with you, or with their grandparents. What happened with your stepdad? I know you told me before that your real dad wasn’t around. He was addicted to heroin or something, right? But you don’t say very much about your stepdad. What happened?”

  “Yeah, my real dad did have a problem with heroin and alcohol and he drifted in and out of my life. Sometimes he’d come around and hang out with me. And sometimes I’d go months without hearing from him. My stepdad, Gary, was a functional cocaine addict. He owned his own accounting firm and had a lot of money, but he also had a strong addiction. He’d come home late some nights after binging and would start hitting my mom. I remember running into Paul, my stepbrother’s room and covering my ears when it happened.

  Paul was six years older, but he was always kind to me. He’d hold me and tell me everything would be alright. He’d tell me God would work it out and God would protect me.

  Paul was gay. Even as a young girl, I knew he was. But he hid it from our parents. He was twenty and already attending college when he came out to Gary.

  Gary was so mad that he beat him up and broke his nose. I remember Gary just wailing on Paul, punching him repeatedly and yelling, ‘Ain’t no son of mine gay! God hates faggots! You’re going to fucking go to hell if you keep that shit up! I’ll beat it out of you!’

  Paul just took it. He didn’t yell. He didn’t cry. He didn’t fight back.

  I remember thinking I didn’t want a God like that in my life. A God who hated people as nice as Paul just because he was gay. So, I avoided church.

  I ran away after Gary hit me, and it was only just the once. I was seventeen and Gary watched from the window as my high school sweetheart dropped me off after a date. My date gave me a long hug then kissed me on the cheek.

  When I walked in the house, Gary started yelling at me. He told me that I looked like a slut allowing some boy to kiss me and that I was being disrespectful because I allowed it to happen on his porch. He slapped me and there ain’t no way I was going to be no man’s punching bag. I left and never looked back. Gary warned me he wouldn’t contribute to my college education if I didn’t come home. Didn’t let that deter me, though. I just stayed with my dad until I went away to college.”

  “Wait a minute,” Erica interrupted, “Your dad? I thought he was strung out on drugs.”

  “He had a problem with alcohol and drugs but he tried to keep all that away from me. I caught him using once. After that, he quit. He went cold turkey. Ronda and a few of her cousins stayed at the house to help him out when he was going through withdrawal. After that, me and my dad were good. He was a good dad when he wasn’t using. I enjoyed the time I spent with him. He wasn’t a great provider, but he was cool. He was funny and he cared about me. I was glad I got to spend that time with him because shortly after, he passed away.”

  “Damn, so you getting in that fight with your stepdad was kind of like a blessing in disguise.”

  “Yeah. It still sucked, though. I didn’t get financial aid, so I took out a ton of student loans. I’m still trying to pay them back. That’s why I’m still broke as hell”

  “I feel you. My school loans are a monster, too. And it seems like no matter how much I pay, it never goes down. But you? You’re a doctor. You rich.”

  “Shit. Everybody thinks doctors are rich. Doctors used to be rich. Now, not so much. You leave medical school two hundred thousand in debt, and you and I both know the interest rates are off the chart. Then, when you go to residency, you are only making like fifty or sixty thousand a year. That’s a doctor’s starting salary and it stays like that for three or more years, depending on what kind of doctor you are. After residency, you have to pay to take your boards, get certifications and licenses
, and take more even more classes to keep your credentials. It’s thousands of dollars a year. And you have to join these medical societies to help you stay up to date on the ever-changing medical field. That costs money, too. And then you have to consider lawsuits and malpractice insurance fees. Now, take all of that and add the fact that I am a single mom of three with no support from their fathers. Yeah, I’m broke. Okay, well, not broke. I’m blessed. I have a nice house, a nice car, and food on the table. I’m stable. I’m just not rich.”

  “True, true,” Erica agreed.

  “I remember watching my mom put up with Gary and thinking that would never be me. Then I got involved with Terrell and I stayed with him for almost six years. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Sad. You know, you never know how you are going to react in a situation until you are in it. I think that’s why God commanded us not to be judgmental.”

  “Well, one thing I will say is you are a strong woman. You didn’t have the perfect childhood, but you came out pretty successful.”

  “True. It’s because God blessed me with an awesome mom. She may have been in some sucky relationships, but she is a beautiful person. She taught me hard work, responsibility, and forgiveness. The only reason I’m successful today is because of her. You know she was the one who stopped Paul’s beating. She stood right between them. She risked her own life that day, standing up for a child that wasn’t even biologically hers.”

  “So, what happened to Paul?”

  “We’ve grown apart over the years, but we sometimes reach out to each other on social media. He seems to be doing good. He travels all over the world and just lives life. He and Gary never made amends. I love God but I hate that the church looks down on the LGBTQ community. There are some beautiful people who are not heterosexual. I just don’t believe that God hates them. How could He? He made them.”

  “God didn’t make them. Either they chose that life or that is an evil spirit corrupting…”

  “Well, He allowed them to exist,” I interrupted.