by Untamed
Damn. My grown ass wanted to cry. It was the first real bonding moment we’d had since she’d moved to New York. I bear-hugged her in return. “I love you too, little lady,” I said as we walked toward the building.
“But sometimes I wish you weren’t an athlete, though.”
“Why?” I looked down at her. “Am I not around enough?”
She giggled. “No, it’s not that. I love being at Grandma’s anyway.”
“Well, what is it? It’s a respectable career, and not to toot my own horn here, but even though I’m not Rick Ross or Jay-Z, I’m well known too, you know.”
She giggled. “Oh, I know. To me, you’re just Dad, but to my classmates and a couple of my teachers, you’re the Lincoln Harper. I get tired of them asking about you all. . . the . . . time. And I overheard my assistant principal, Ms. Lewis, talking to one of the third-grade teachers, Mrs. Bowman, saying that you were fine as wine. Yuck! I’m, like, ew, that’s my dad.”
I burst out laughing. I was used to the reactions and the comments from women, but it was hilarious to see how London reacted to my fame. So I had to mess with her a bit. “Hey, where do you think you get your looks from?”
She laughed. “OMG. That’s gross. TMI.”
“Okay, kiddo, you’ve got to stop speaking in text lingo,” I said as we reached the building. I read the sign posted on the door. “They just opened, London. They are still hiring staff,” I said, relaying the message on the sign, before I opened the door for her.
“The Art of Dance,” London said aloud as she read the name of the building.
The receptionist greeted us brightly when we walked inside. “Hello. My name is Kira. How may I help you?”
“Yes, I wanted to check out your facility. My daughter is a dance student, and we just moved here, so I am trying to find her a new studio.”
“You’ve come to the right place. We have only a few classes right now, but new classes will be added as we bring on more instructors. We just opened up so it’s a work in progress, but I can take you on a tour. I’m sure you’ll find that this is the place for your daughter,” Kira said. She looked over at London and offered her hand. “And your name, sweetie?”
“I’m London,” she answered, shaking Kira’s hand.
I shook my head at my own rudeness. “Excuse me for being rude. I’m her dad, Lincoln.”
“No worries, Lincoln. Right this way.”
As we walked through the facility, I could tell that it was state of the art. It was spacious and had different classrooms for different age groups, advancement levels, and genres of dance. London was in awe. It even had a cafeteria area and a high-tech waiting area, complete with flat-screens and computers. I had to admit I was impressed too.
During the final stretch of the tour, Kira gave me a brochure. “We also have tuition assistance and grants to help with the financial needs—”
“Oh, my dad doesn’t need money help,” London interrupted. “He’s the Lincoln Harper,” she added, joshing me from earlier.
Kira’s mouth dropped. “Oh my God. I thought you looked familiar. You’re him—the guy from the billboard.”
“Gee, thanks, London,” I said, faking sarcasm. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Oh my God. I have to introduce you to the owner. You’ll probably know her. Her husband plays football too,” Kira said as she motioned for us to follow her.
We walked down the hall and stepped inside the owner’s office, and before the receptionists could even speak, I did.
“Charice?” I asked as she stood up from her desk, in shock.
“Ms. Charice,” London screamed and ran to hug her.
“London? Lincoln?” Charice asked, puzzled, as she hugged London.
“I’m sorry, Charice. When they brought it to my attention that he was the guy from the billboard, I had to bring him back. I take it you two know each other, so I’ll leave you,” Kira said. She walked out and shut the door behind her.
Charice looked as if she’d seen a ghost or some shit. “What are you doing here?” she asked nervously.
London spoke before I could even part my lips. “I was looking for a dance studio. Please tell me you’ll teach me. Please!”
This must’ve been the reason why I hadn’t heard back from Charice. Ryan had to have sprung this dance-studio crap on her to make up with her. He knew this was her dream, and if he could provide that for her, then she’d be too joyous to stay pissed with him. That nigga had always been one slick-ass playboy, and I just couldn’t believe Charice had fallen for his shit yet again.
“So he suckered you in with the studio, huh?” I shook my head.
“Lincoln, don’t. He’s my husband,” she said, defending him. “How about we go out front, to the lobby area?” Charice suggested.
I picked up on that hint. She wanted us to go. “London, we’d better find another studio. I don’t think this one will be a good idea.”
“Why?” London whined. “I want Ms. Charice to teach me.”
“Because I said so,” I boomed in frustration. “Didn’t we just talk about maturity?”
I didn’t feel like discussing it anymore. Charice was already trying to get rid of us, probably before Ryan brought his raggedy ass in there, and I’d had enough of them and all their fucking drama.
“But, Daddy,” London said, pouting. “Just because you and Ms. Charice aren’t dating doesn’t mean she can’t teach me to dance. You’re so unfair,” she whined.
“Little girl, I do not have time for this. There are things you don’t understand, and Charice will not do it,” I snapped, my anger unnecessarily directed at my daughter.
Charice looked back and forth between us and blurted, “I’ll do it. I mean, the studio is open to anyone. Can we just head to the lobby?”
Now I knew something was up. There was no way she’d willingly agree to teach London to dance, especially knowing how Ryan would feel about it. Something was up with her.
“Why are you so jumpy, and why would you agree to do that, given the circumstances?” I asked.
She looked as if she were sweating bullets. “Nothing. I just would rather—”
Suddenly, we heard a wail. A cry almost. A baby’s cry.
“You have a baby?” I asked her.
“Um . . . ,” she mumbled, stalling.
A thought overcame me, and I prayed to God I was wrong. She hadn’t been with Ryan long enough to have a baby. All of a sudden, I thought about Ryan’s behavior, Charice’s behavior, and her insistence on getting us out of this building. I knew damn well . . .
Anger brimmed inside of me. “How old, Charice?”
“Um . . .”
“London, go sit in the lobby,” I instructed, never taking my eyes off Charice.
London must’ve sensed the seriousness in my voice, because she left without an argument. Charice and I stared at each other for a few moments, until the baby started to cry again.
She went into the room on the other side of her office and came back with a small bundle all wrapped up. I couldn’t see the baby, but I could see that Charice was shaking like a leaf.
“Whose baby is that?”
“Mine,” she said nervously.
“And Ryan’s? You and Ryan had a baby together?” I had to know. I could be wrong. I had to be wrong. Right?
Instead of answering me, she closed her eyes, and tears fell down her cheeks.
“Wait a minute, Charice. Who is the father?”
Instantly, all my senses were out of control. I felt nauseous and angry, defeated yet elated, nervous yet duped all at the same time. I just knew that she wasn’t going to tell me what was running through my mind. It couldn’t be. It . . . just . . . could . . . not . . . be.
She walked over to me and removed the blanket shielding the baby’s face, and I swore I was looking at an image of myself when I was a baby. I gasped. My closed fist covered my mouth as I fell back about two or three steps.
“This is Lexi McKenzie Westmore, and she is
your daughter—our daughter,” she admitted through her tears.
That admission knocked the rest of the wind out of me, and I fell backward into one of her chairs. I had a daughter—with Charice. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I wanted to hug Charice and kill her at the same time. Then I looked up at her, and I got mad. M-a-d. A rage swelled up inside me that was so intense that I knew if I didn’t get out of there soon, they’d have to call the police on me. I stood up and turned to walk to the door.
“Lincoln, please don’t be upset. I can explain.”
She walked up on me with the baby in her arms. I turned around and put my hand up to block her. “No. Back the fuck away from me, Charice. Seriously. You don’t want it with me right now. I’m so fucking pissed off right now. I can’t even think straight,” I said, then turned to leave.
“But, Lincoln—”
“But, Lincoln, what? Huh? What?” I snapped. “You’re gonna explain to me how you were pregnant with my daughter and didn’t tell me? Or how you had the audacity to have the baby and didn’t tell me that I was a father? Or better yet—and you’re gonna love this one—why you named my fucking baby after your damned husband? Westmore? Really? Are you shitting me? You gave my seed Ryan’s last name? Believe me, you don’t want it with me right now, damn it. I’m so gawddamned mad, it ain’t even fucking funny.”
I slung the door open, stormed out to the lobby, and motioned for London to follow me. “Let’s go. Now,” I said with such finality in my voice that London jumped up quickly and hightailed it with me.
“Mr. Harper, did you like the facility?” Kira asked as we approached the receptionist’s desk.
“It was fine,” I said and walked out the door, with London fast on my heels. “Get in the car and do not say a word. You will not be coming here for dance, and that’s final,” I hollered as we got in my car.
I dialed my mother’s number.
“Hey, baby,” she answered.
“Ma, I need to drop London off. I have some things to work out. Can you keep her for a day or so?”
“What’s going on?” my mom asked.
“Nothing. Well, something, but nothing I need to discuss right now. Can you do it?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. We’ll be there in, like, twenty minutes.” I disconnected the line. “You’re staying over there for a day. Grandma will take you to school.”
“Dad, what’s wrong?” London asked, filled with concern.
“Everything and nothing all at the same time. Trust me, be a kid for as long as you can, because being an adult is a bitch.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence.
Chapter 10
Charice
Once Lincoln left, I sat in my office, trembling like the nervous wreck I was. I didn’t know what to say or do. All kinds of shit was running through my mind. Would he try to retaliate and hurt Ryan and me? Would he sue me for custody of Lexi? Would he fight for his parental rights? Did he hate me? He had left so abruptly that I hadn’t been able talk to him. Of course, I had known I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise once he found out. Now I regretted not listening to my mom, LaMeka, and even Lucinda, who had told me it was better to tell Lincoln and let the chips fall where they may than to keep it from him. My hardheaded decision was definitely making for a soft ass.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became with myself. I couldn’t believe I’d hidden Lexi from Lincoln all this time. She was four months old now. What the hell had I been thinking? No matter what Lincoln had done to me, he didn’t deserve not to know about his child or not to have the opportunity to develop a relationship with her. Now I knew how Aldris felt. Hell, at the time it had made sense, Lincoln had been an ass, and we hadn’t been together. It had seemed like the perfect solution. But with one look into Lincoln’s eyes, I had known that it was the worst decision I’d ever made in my life. He had looked at me as if he hated me.
I decided the best thing for me to do now was to take Lexi back home to Johanna so that I could be by myself and figure out what to do. I definitely couldn’t tell Ryan what had happened, at least not until I figured out what to do to get the situation under control.
“You’re back early, Mrs. Westmore,” Johanna said, surprised, when I walked in the house. “Mr. Westmore just left to go to a meeting with his agent.”
“Yeah, he told me he had a meeting today. I just needed to drop Lexi off with you. I have some errands to run.”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Westmore? You seem very troubled,” she commented, taking Lexi out of my arms.
I rubbed my forehead. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “Let the Lord guide you. He will. Just trust Him.”
Even that little bit of comfort was enough to calm me down. I sure was going to need every bit of the good Lord to help me figure out how to handle this situation. I kissed Lexi, left the house, and got back in the car.
“Lord, I need you now.” Just as I said that, my cell phone rang. I knew before I even looked at the screen that it was Lincoln.
“I’m coming back to the studio, and we are gonna have a long muthafucking discussion when I get there. But I’m letting you know right fucking now that I want to be a part of my daughter’s life, and I want her name changed to Harper,” he seethed as soon as I answered.
“I’m not at the studio—”
“Well, I’m bringing this discussion wherever the fuck you’re at,” he retorted.
I deserved his anger and his harshness, but I still had to try to contain this situation. As mad as Lincoln was, if his fury was compounded by Ryan’s anger and if Ryan found out that Lincoln knew about Lexi, I couldn’t even imagine the outcome.
“I will talk to you about everything. That is a promise. Can we just not do it at our homes? The nanny is at my house, and you know what happened the last time Ryan caught me at your house.”
He huffed, his frustration evident. “The only reason I’m giving you any kind of sympathy is that my mom calmed me down a little bit and that if I see your bitch-ass husband, I’ma put his ass in a box,” he screamed. “Meet me at my parents’ old house in Queens.”
“Queens?” I said, more to myself than to him. Traffic was a bitch when you went over the Hutchinson River Parkway Bridge to get to Queens, and the trip there could easily run anywhere from forty minutes—on a good day—to an hour.
“Or we can make it two-forty Murray Hill. It’s your choice,” he said, his tone threatening.
“No. I’m just thinking of the traffic, but I will be there. Are you leaving now?”
“As soon as I pull over and get some gas.”
“Okay, I’m leaving my house now.” I pulled out of my garage and checked the fuel gauge to make sure my tank was full.
“A’ight. See you then,” he acknowledged and hung up.
The ride to Queens was a somber one. I played all kinds of inspirational gospel music to help keep my stomach from lurching out of my body. My nerves were all over the place because I didn’t know what to expect. Would Lincoln flip out and beat the hell out of me? How the hell did you have a decent discussion about keeping a child away from a parent? I had to pull over to get some Pepto Bismol just to make the rest of the trip. I called Johanna and asked her to get the boys from school and told her to tell Ryan that I had an important meeting, so I wouldn’t be home until later that night.
As I suspected, when I pulled up in the driveway, Lincoln was already there. Let’s just say I had taken the scenic route to his parents’ house. He’d already called me twice, and I hadn’t been able to bring myself to answer the phone. He came out of the house as soon as I pulled up, and stopped short when he saw my car. He stood with his arms folded across his chest.
“I started to drive back to Scarsdale and go to your house,” he said as soon as I stepped foot outside my vehicle.
“I couldn’t exactly remember the way,” I lied.
“That’s why I called you.
You shoulda answered. But I’m sure you enjoyed the extra time to avoid me,” he said as we walked into his parents’ old house.
Stepping over the threshold, I said, “I can’t avoid the unavoidable, Lincoln.”
“But you sure as hell was gonna try.”
Trying to calm him, I pleaded for a smooth conversation. “Lincoln, let’s try to be adult about this. I know that what I did was messed up, but let’s just deal with the here and now.”
Lincoln looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Woman, you have some nerve. I swear, you’ve been around Ryan too long now. How do you skip over the fact that you’ve lied to me for a year? You were pregnant and never even told me, and then you had the nerve to have my baby and pass her off as Ryan’s, and I’m supposed to be calm now? You and that fuck nigga husband of yours are fucking crazy,” he spewed angrily.
“Well, what do you want me to say, Lincoln? What do you want to do about it, huh? Do you want to beat me up? Cuss me out? Kill me? Is that it? Go ahead. If it makes you feel better, then do what you gotta do. It doesn’t change the fact that Lexi is here, and she is yours. And it damn sure doesn’t change the fact that Ryan and I were wrong, but what can we do about it now?”
Lincoln took a step back; then he turned, walked into the living room, and sat on the sofa. I sent up a “Thank you, Lord” as I walked into the room behind him, happy that he hadn’t done any of the things I suggested. At least now I knew I was safe. I just didn’t know what else was going to go down with regard to Lexi. There was no way he was going to take her away from me. If that was his plan, he could go ahead and do me in, because that was the only way I was giving up my child.
Lincoln held his head in his hands, and I sat down on the other end of the sofa, just waiting for him to say something. Anything.
The next thing I heard was weeping. “How could you do that to me, Charice? How? And from you—you. I’ve gone through so much shit, so much shit that hurts, and you did this . . . this . . . this horrible, despicable thing to me. How could you?”
It was the first time I’d ever seen Lincoln truly break down. I felt so horrible. I had to be the worst person on the face of the earth to him and myself at this moment. His pain made me tear up, and I couldn’t believe that I actually had been heartless enough to keep Lexi from him. Especially after he had told me the story about how he had to fight for London. I should’ve come clean then, but it just hadn’t seemed as devastating at the time. Now I realized that it was. He had every right to hate me and Ryan. We deserved that and so much more.