“Okay, I’ll leave,” I whispered. “All you gotta do is tell me the truth. Is Davon my son? ’Cause if he is, you ain’t getting rid of me. I’m not gonna abandon my child. You know me better than that.”
Monica’s expression relaxed, but she still didn’t answer me. She wouldn’t even make eye contact. I repeated the question.
“Is the baby mine, Monica?”
“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “I hope so. ’Cause Jordan’s ass ain’t worth a shit.”
“Damn. This is bullshit, Monica. What the fuck happened to you? You weren’t like this when me met.” I was trying to keep my voice down, but it was getting harder to keep my emotions in check. Luckily for everyone in the room, we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“I heard you wanted to see me, Ms. Cooper. How you feeling?” A short, balding white man wearing a lab coat walked into the room.
“I’m doing all right, Dr. Benson. Just a little tired,” Monica answered.
“How are your stitches?”
“A little sore.”
“Well, that’s to be expected. I’ll see if I can get you something for mat.” The doctor turned and smiled at me kindly. “And who is this young man holding the baby? Is he the father?”
All of a sudden, Monica was speechless. The Monica I once knew would have been totally embarrassed to be in the situation she was in now. I guess she still had a little pride left, ’cause she was not about to admit she couldn’t name the father of her child. I didn’t give a shit about her pride. I answered the doctor.
“That’s up in the air, doc. We’re still trying to sort that out.”
I expected a disapproving look from the doctor, but I guess he’d seen it all before.
“Well, if it’s a matter of paternity,” he suggested, “we can give you a simple swab test here and take care of that. It’ll take a couple of days to get the results, but by the time Monica’s released, you should know.”
I didn’t bother to ask for Monica’s opinion. My only concern was finding out for sure about this beautiful child in my arms. I needed to know if I was his father, so I could start making plans.
“Sounds good to me, doc. When can we do it?”
“Just let me finish my rounds and then I’ll be back with some consent forms. We can do it this morning if you’re both in agreement.” His eyes moved from me to Monica. She nodded her approval, though she refused to make eye contact with me or the doctor.
“Okay, then. I’ll be back in a little while.” The doctor turned and left us alone. I’m sure the happy couple was relieved that Monica and I didn’t speak at all until the doctor came back to give us the test that would determine the course of the rest of my life.
I stepped off the elevator and into the maternity ward of the hospital, carrying a car seat in one hand and my paternity papers in the other. Joe’s new friend Carol was sitting at the nurses’ station. I gave her a smile and a warm hello. She didn’t respond, though. Matter of fact, she actually frowned when we made eye contact. I ignored her and walked past the station toward Monica’s room. I guess her date with Joe last night must not have gone too well. I wasn’t gonna let that bother me, though. Especially since, after three painful days of waiting, I’d finally received the paternity results proving Davon was my son.
“Excuse me, Dylan?” I turned around and saw Carol. She had come from the station and was standing in the corridor.
“Were you calling me?”
“Yes, I was.” She hesitated. “I just wanted to tell you she’s not there.”
“What are you talking about? Who’s not there?”
“Ms. Cooper. She’s not in her room. She checked out a few hours ago.”
“Monica checked out?” I froze. Carol nodded.
“Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know. She left with an older man, but I don’t think they knew each other very well.”
“Why’s that?”
“When he came to ask for her, he didn’t know her last name.”
“And you let her leave with him? They’re probably going somewhere to smoke crack. What’s wrong with you people?”
“We can’t tell patients who they can and cannot leave with. The only thing we require is a release from the doctor and a car seat for the baby.”
“Car seat for the baby! Oh, my God! Please, tell me my son’s still here. Please.” I held my breath and said a prayer as I waited for her answer. When she didn’t respond quickly enough, I ran straight to the nursery. I looked in every single bassinet they had, but couldn’t find my son. I finally stopped dead in my tracks when I looked up at the big board they had on the wall. My son’s name had a black mark through it and
discharge
written in red.
That’s when I realized I couldn’t breathe. My heart began to race, and my chest tightened up. A knot developed in my stomach that dropped me to one knee. I swear to God, I thought I was having a heart attack, the pain was so bad. It took me a good sixty seconds to recover from what I soon realized was not a heart attack but an anxiety attack.
“Dylan? You all right?” It was Carol.
“My son’s not here, is he?”
“No, she took him with her,” Carol replied tentatively.
“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening to me,” I repeated.
37
Jasmine
I must have watched that video twenty times before Derrick came home. He was calm, cool, and collected. Judging from the way he strolled in, he had no idea what had gone down earlier in the day. He had no idea that right now all his clothes and personal shit were on the lawn below our bedroom window. Just knowing that shit was out there made me feel a little better. At least enough that I could look at him now without crying.
“Hey, baby, everything go ah’ight with your mom’s party?”
“Yeah, I wish you could have been here.” I smirked at him. “You were the main topic of conversation. In fact, my family saw a part of you they’ll never forget.”
“Is that so?” He looked puzzled.
“Yeah, let me show you.” I clicked the remote for the VCR and watched Derrick’s skin turn pale.
“Oh, shit.” He collapsed onto the couch, his mouth hanging open.
“How could you, Derrick?” I finally broke down in tears. “And with Sabrina! That’s my best fucking friend!”
I couldn’t believe it, but he wasn’t trying to come up with some creative lie. All he did was stand there and stare at me. I wanted to get up and smack the shit out of him. My world was crumbling around me, and he was as calm as a meditating monk.
“Where’d you find it?” he finally asked.
“Big Momma found it in the camcorder. They thought it was the tape from T. J.’s christening.”
He turned his head and bit his lip. I wondered what was making him feel worse, the fact that he was stupid enough to leave the evidence in the camera, or the thought that my whole family had watched his damn freak show with Sabrina. I looked at him from where I was sitting, and I just wanted to explode. But it wasn’t all about Derrick. Oh, he and I were through. There was no question about that. But I was just as angry with Sabrina. She’d broken every rule in the friendship book.
“Why Sabrina, Derrick? Do you hate me so much that you had to fuck my best friend?”
He started to sniffle like he was holding back tears. As if it was going to get him sympathy or something.
“What the fuck are you sniffling about?” I shouted. “I’m the one who should be crying! I’m the one who got fucked over! I could have fucked a hundred men while you were upstate, motherfucker! But I didn’t do shit! So tell me, what the fuck are you crying about?”
He turned around to walk up the stairs, probably to get his shit. He couldn’t possibly think I was gonna let him stay. But I had to make it perfectly clear he was out of my life.
“You ain’t staying here, motherfucker! And your shit ain’t upstairs, ’cause I tried to do a Terry McMillan on your ass and burn it up!”
“My comic books,” he mumbled.
“You damn right! That was the first shit to go.” Believe it or not, that was the first thing that got him to show any real emotion since he walked through the door. It was sickening how important those damn comic books were to him.
“Bitch, you burnt up my comic books!” he yelled, stomping toward me. “Do you know how much them things are worth? I’m gonna kill yo’ ass.”
I believed him, too. He grabbed me by the shoulder and raised his fist high above me. I struggled to get loose.
“Come on, motherfucker! I wish you would hit me! But if you hit me, you damn sure better kill me, ’cause I’ll have your parole violated before you get out the door.”
I’d hit a nerve. He sure wasn’t ready to give up his newly earned freedom so quickly. The grip on my shoulder loosened. I wiggled free and ran to the other side of the room.
“I love you, Jasmine. I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you.”
“You don’t know what love is, Derrick.” We were both panting from the exertion. “Now, get the fuck out my house. And I better not catch your ass trying to stay with that bitch Sabrina.”
“You’re making a big mistake, Jasmine. Let me stay and we’ll work this out, boo,” he pleaded.
“Get the fuck out. Now!” I turned my back and waited until I heard the sound of the front door slamming.
My eyes were stinging from holding back the tears, but I was not about to cry now. That man had hurt me so many times, and I was furious. I thought it was bad, way back at the start of our relationship, when I found out he was really a drug dealer. But even that lie wasn’t as bad as what he had just done to me. I’d been faithful to Derrick for three long, lonely years while he was away. Shoot, I’d even made nice with his pain-in-the-ass baby’s momma, bringing her money and watching her kid. And this was how Derrick repaid me. I guess all my sacrifice meant nothing to him if he could throw it all away for a damn blow job.
I looked around the apartment at all the photos of Derrick and me. Him with that pretty-boy smile, always with his arm around me. And me looking up at him like he was the best thing that ever happened in my life. I felt like such a fool. Just the sight of those memories made me hurt. I had to get out of the apartment. I grabbed my keys and headed for my car, not sure where I was going.
I got onto U.S. I heading south, thinking that a drive might clear my head. And it did help a tittle. I drove for at least an hour, surfing through radio stations to avoid hearing any romantic song that might remind me of Derrick. My mind wandered back over so many incidents in our relationship that at the time seemed minor. In the bigger picture, though, it was becoming clear that Derrick really never was the great man I thought he was. There were so many times he’d manipulated me. I was forever giving in to his demands, doing things a real man would never have asked of his woman in the first place. And yet with Derrick, not only did he ask me to do them, but he worked every possible angle until he got me to agree. But I guess I was at fault, too. I should have been stronger, said no a lot sooner. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we were both just really bad for each other. After all we’d been through, I doubted I could ever hate Derrick, but I was pretty sure that soon I’d be happy to be without him.
So as I drove, my mood started to improve a little bit. I was actually singing along with a song on the radio when I got the call that put me right back in a foul mood.
“Hello?”
“Jasmine.”
“Who is this? I can barely hear you.”
“It’s me. Sabrina.” I almost swerved into another lane.
“What the fuck do you want, bitch? You already fucked my man.” I hung up the phone, but she called right back.
“Stop calling me!” I shouted.
“Jasmine, you gotta listen to me.” She spoke fast. “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“An accident! What? Did you accidentally wrap your lips around his dick so that my whole family could see you suck it? Please, bitch, don’t insult me. You already got an ass-kicking coming to you. Don’t make it worse than it already is.” She had me so pissed off, I ran a red light.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the flashing lights of a police car.
“Damn it! See what you did, bitch?” I clicked off the phone. “Shit! What the hell else is gonna happen today?”
I pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the officer to get out of his car. A tall, broad-shouldered cop approached my car. He shined his flashlight in my face.
“License and registration, please.”
I thumbed through my purse and handed the information to him.
“You know you just ran a red light, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t realize it until I was halfway through.”
“Well, this is a heavy pedestrian area. You might wanna stay off that cell phone and pay attention to the road.”