Authors: Paulette Oakes
Friday evening, Sam pulled in to the parking lot of Chad’s
townhouse hoping to see the kids and to also share the burden of the news that
Renata had dropped in his lap like a ticking time bomb. His head was still
reeling from that phone call six days ago and his stomach roiled all over again
just thinking about it. The absolute
last
person he wanted to raise a
child with would have been Renata. She may have been beautiful and intelligent,
but she was also grasping and looking for a man to take care of her so she
didn’t have to work. Once he had figured that out, he had broken up with her.
With a perfunctory knock, Sam let himself in the door of
Chad’s apartment to see his friend and Derrick sprawled on the couch playing
the newest PS3 game that was just released on Tuesday. Sam knew good and well
that the game cost $60 and he tried not to be annoyed at Chad for buying it
when he knew that B.J. was struggling just to put food on the table.
“Hey, man! Come on in and take a load off,” Chad called out,
not even taking his eyes off the screen.
Derrick shot him a quick grin in greeting and continued to
push buttons in fierce concentration. Playing video games was one of the only
things he had in common with his dad, so Sam knew that the boy was too
engrossed to stop now.
Looking around the room, Sam replied, “Where’s Lola?”
Chad continued to keep playing for several moments before he
finally answered, “Upstairs in their room, I guess. I turned her TV on up
there.”
Sam bit back a comment, took his jacket off, and took the
stairs two at a time until he arrived at the landing and could peek in the
little room. Since there were only two bedrooms in this unit, Derrick and Lola
had to share a room, but Sam had done his best to make sure they each felt like
they had their own space. He knew that an eleven year old boy and a four year
old girl had nothing in common, so he had secured permission from the landlord
to make minor modifications. Chad, as was his custom, had waved him on with no
help or effort on his part.
Since he knew that Derrick would want more privacy, he
installed a bracket on each wall and hung a long, round wooden rod straight
down the middle of the room from left to right. Then he had commissioned a
drapery shop to custom-make a thick curtain, split in the middle, with purple
fabric on the front side and black fabric on the back. This divided the room in
half and allowed the kids to have their own space without getting on each
other’s nerves too badly.
Lola was sitting in front of her TV, which was blaring
Lilo
and Stitch
, while playing pretend with her stuffed animals. Sam couldn’t
contain his grin as he watched her quietly for a moment. It was remarkable how
much she looked like Chad. They both had the same blonde curly hair and bright
blue eyes that acted as a magnet to draw people in, but Lola had her mother’s smile.
“Pssst. Hey, little monkey, what are you doing?” Sam asked,
finally capturing her attention.
A look of pure joy came over her face as she jumped up and
ran straight for him. Sam scooped her up, held her tight, and inhaled deeply so
he could capture the scent of her shampoo and Billie’s home.
“Uncle Sam!” she squealed happily. “Did you come to play
with me and have a tea party?”
Sam’s insides melted under the big, innocent gaze fixed on
his face. He knew she got lonely when she visited her dad because Chad didn’t
know how to relate to the little girl and Derrick was busy trying to win his
dad’s affection.
He tweaked her nose and replied, “You better believe I did.
Got any cookies to go with that tea?”
Taking him by the hand, she led him over to her group of
toys and immediately began to talk his ear off. Thankfully, she never required
much from him in the way of a reply, except for the occasional nod, smile, or
minor exclamation.
An hour later, Derrick walked into the bedroom to see Uncle
Sam very patiently helping Lola put together a Tinkerbell puzzle. The boy smile
crookedly and said, “Hey, Sam. Dad says to send you downstairs. I’ll take over
playing with Lola for a while.”
Sam gently extricated himself from the sticky grasp of the
little girl, kissed her on the head, and clapped Derrick on the back on his way
out of the room. After jogging down the steps easily, making sure to duck his
head on the low overhang, Sam met up with Chad in the tiny kitchen of the
little townhouse.
“I think I’m going to order some pizzas. You wanna chip in?”
Chad asked as he twisted the cap off a beer.
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. If he didn’t
give him the money now, Chad would just wait until the pizza showed up and then
ask Sam to “front him” some money and then never pay him back. Sam didn’t mind
it too much. He made good money as the foreman in a large construction company
and he didn’t have many bills, so he was happy to spread the wealth around.
Unfortunately, Chad knew this all too well and never hesitated to take
advantage of Sam’s generosity.
Throwing $40 down on the counter, he replied, “Yeah, I’ll
take whatever, but make sure you order those cheese sticks that Lola loves and
no mushrooms on Derrick’s half.”
Chad shot him a peeved look as he dialed the pizza place’s
number. “Dude, I know he’s allergic to mushrooms. I’m his dad, remember?
Besides, do you really think Billie would ever let me forget it?”
“Whatever, man. Just order the fucking cheese sticks, too.”
He didn’t know why, but his temper was getting really short with Chad. They’d
been best friends since at least third grade, but over the past few years, he
had felt them growing apart.
After Chad finished the order and hung up the phone, he
offered a beer to Sam and asked, “So, what’s been going on lately? I haven’t
seen you in a few weeks. Actually, it was the last time the kids were here, if
I’m not mistaken. You better be careful, dude, or I’m gonna get a complex.”
Chad laughed lightly as he lit the end of a cigarette and blew a lungful of smoke
into the air.
“Hey, open the window! You know you’re not supposed to smoke
around Derrick with his asthma,” Sam reminded him, scowling.
“Jesus! What are you, my mom or something?” Chad bit back.
Walking a few steps over to the sink, he flipped the lock and opened the window
to let the cool November breeze carry the smoke out through the screen.
“I was going to open it, anyway. Quit being such a dick. Who pissed in your
Wheaties this morning?”
Sam took a deep breath for patience and ran his hand through
his glossy, black hair. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve had a rough few weeks. We’ve been
working overtime on a new project out in Bardstown, and to top it off, I got
some really bad news a few days ago.”
Taking a deep drag off the cigarette and blowing the smoke
toward the window, Chad replied, “Yeah? What happened?”
“You know Renata and I broke up a few weeks ago, right?” At
his friend’s nod of affirmation, he continued. “Well, she just called me this
past Monday night to tell me she’s pregnant.”
Chad had been in the middle of another draw on his
cigarette, but this news had him coughing and choking in shock. Finally, after
several minutes of hacking and multiple swallows of beer, he was able to
wheeze, “Fuck, dude! You have got to be kidding me!”
Sam shook his head wearily. “I wish I was, but she was
hysterical about it. She kept insisting that I had to marry her and make it
right. I told her that it wasn’t 1950 and that I would support the baby and pay
the bills, but that marriage wasn’t on the table. I also told her she wouldn’t
see a dime until I saw the results of a paternity test.”
Chad, looking pale and sweaty after his bout of coughing,
replied, “That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think? Why would you think it isn’t
yours?”
“Two reasons. First, Renata was a major flirt and enjoyed
the attention that men showered on her and I wouldn’t put it past her to have
been cheating on me. And second, I
always
wear a condom, even if the
chick says she’s on birth control. I’m not a sucker and I’ve heard of too many
horror stories where men were trapped in that situation,” he explained,
collapsing into the wire frame chair at the kitchen table.
“Well, you’ll have to wait until after it’s born to do a
paternity test, right? You’re not going to help her with her bills for the whole
pregnancy?” Chad asked, lighting another cigarette and taking a deep drag.
Sam started peeling the paper off the bottle of beer and
tried not to think about the headache creeping up the back of his skull. “I hate
being such a douchebag about this, but I just have this feeling that it’s not
my baby. If I wait until the kid is born to do the test, then I’ll being paying
through the nose for nine months. I did some checking online and found out that
they can do prenatal DNA testing now that’s non-invasive by using the mother’s
blood. I told her if she wanted me take care of her, she would have to submit
to that test.”
Chad was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he
shook his head and said, “That’s got to be expensive, dude. If you’re so sure
it’s not your kid, why are you willing to pay for a test like this?”
“Because it will be a drop in the bucket compared to what
she will expect of the father of her baby. You’re right about it being
expensive, too. The test will cost me at least $1700 at the location in
Louisville, but they can do the test as early as her ninth week. According to
her, she’s already about six weeks along, but she’s refusing to submit to the
test until after Christmas. The fact that she’s stalling for time already tells
me that she’s not 100% positive of the results,” Sam explained.
Chad put out his cigarette by running the faucet over it and
throwing the wet butt away. “I think this calls for something a little stronger
than beer,” he said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of Maker’s
Mark. Pouring two fingers each in two glasses, he handed one of them to Sam
before taking a large swallow of his own. This led to more coughing and
eye-watering, but he immediately tossed back the rest of it while Sam took a
more moderate sip.
“Thanks, man. I needed that,” Sam told him, taking another
bracing drink of the whiskey and feeling it burn down his throat. “It’s going
to be a very long two months.”
The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the pizza man.
As Chad passed by Sam, he clapped him on the shoulder and muttered, “I don’t
know, dude. I have a feeling it’s going to fly by before you know it.”
**************************************************************
Billie sat on her bed and viewed the motley assortment of
women currently taking up space in her small bedroom. Connie, Irene, and
Jessica were all discussing her as if she wasn’t there as they looked through
the contents of her closet and pulled out different items of clothing.
“We need something
sexy
for Billie to wear. She’s not
going to church, Yessica!” Connie berated her coworker as Jessica held up a
button-down pink blouse.
Shooting her a dirty look, the petite, round woman replied,
“Well, there’s a difference between sexy and slutty, Connie! Not surprisingly,
you don’t seem to know the difference!”
An outraged gasp escaped Connie’s mouth. “
No me jodas
,
Yessica, or I will tell your husband that you been flirting with that drug rep
that brings you the chocolates, okay? I don’t got to listen to your shit
tonight!”
Jessica puffed up her massive chest and bumped the slender
Latina lady back a few steps. “You say one word about that to Jason and I will
wipe the floor with you, J Lo! And I’ve told you a thousand times not to cuss
me in Spanish. You wanna cuss me, you better make sure I understand every word,
okay
?” she mocked her snidely.
Stepping in between the two snarling women, Irene calmly
warned them, “Ladies, retract your claws or I will tell Dr. Williams that you
two love working with her so much, that you want to take over my rotation on
her service.”
Both nurses immediately stopped glaring at each other and
cringed. Connie stuck her hand out and said, “Truce?”
“Truce,” Jessica agreed quickly, shaking Connie’s hand once.
Billie rolled her eyes at their dramatics, well used to
seeing them explode at each other one minute, then laughing and hugging the
next. She’d never seen friends behave like that before, but it worked for them,
so who was she to judge?
“Ok, here’s how this is going to work,” Irene explained,
taking charge of the situation, “I will help Billie pick her outfit, Jessica
gets makeup duty, and Connie will fix her hair. While we plunder the closet,
you two pour us some wine and put on some music. Move it!”
The two younger women scurried to do her bidding, not daring
to second-guess her authority. She was a natural leader and people
instinctively followed her command due to a magic combination of confidence,
wisdom, and charisma. Even at 61 years of age, she was a non-stop ball of
energy. She worked all day on her feet at the doctor’s office, then taught yoga
and senior’s aerobics at the fitness center three nights a week, and
volunteered at the soup kitchen in E-town on Saturdays. She exuded the attitude
of a much younger woman and didn’t hesitate to kick her heels up by drinking
and dancing with the rest of them at least once a month.
Flicking through the hangers in Billie’s closet, she asked,
“Have you heard from Sam yet?”
Billie didn’t even try to act surprised that Irene knew
about what had happened. With a tight-knit group like they were at that office,
there was no such thing as a secret and she had no doubt that all four of the
women had already discussed and dissected her drama thoroughly. It was an
unspoken rule that your business was their business, and vice versa. At the
root of it all, they loved each other and were as close as family.