So You Call Yourself a Man (17 page)

The doorbell rang, and I let go of the mattress I was carrying to the basement in order to run up the stairs and answer the door. I'd been cleaning out what used to be our guestroom so that it could be transformed into the baby's nursery. Alison and I had big plans for this room, including adding crown moldings and hardwood floors. I loved working with my hands, and planned on doing most of the work myself. It would be a welcome distraction from the depression I'd been going through after Jackie had broken up with me three weeks ago. I guess that old cliché was true, you don't know what you have until it's gone, because I felt like a piece of me had been missing ever since Jackie walked out that door in San Francisco. I loved Jackie more than I wanted to admit. Don't get me wrong, I made the right choice by coming home to my wife and unborn child, but if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't even think twice about having another affair with Jackie.

“Who?” I yelled as I approached the door. Like every other time I answered the door, I was praying it would be Jackie, but of course, it wasn't.

“It's Jason, Mr. Williams.” I opened the door, and there was the high school kid from two doors down who cut my lawn. I'd heard him out back mowing the grass, so he was obviously looking to get paid. Jason was as good as any of the local lawn service guys, and much cheaper at twenty-five dollars.

“Hey, Jason, how many weeks do I owe you for?”

“Just one. Your wife paid me last week.”

“Good, let me go get my wallet.”

I walked into my bedroom and took thirty dollars out of my wallet, hoping Jason had five dollars change. When I walked back to the front door, I froze right where I was standing, and Jason's money dropped to the floor. I could not believe my eyes. Standing next to Jason was Jackie.

“How you doing, Brent?”

I didn't answer, although Jackie's words seemed to float into my ears. Jackie walked over and picked up the money I'd dropped, handing it to Jason. “I think this belongs to you.”

Jason took the money and counted it. “It's too much money, Mr. Williams. I don't have any change.”

I snapped out of my trance, although I was still staring at Jackie. It took everything I had not to run across that room and tongue my baby down right in front of my neighbor's son. “Don't worry about it, Jason. You can keep the change.”

Jason grinned. “Thanks, Mr. Williams.” He walked out of the house and Jackie closed the door behind him, taking a few tentative steps toward me.

“You never answered my question.”

“Huh? What question?” I still hadn't moved out of my spot.

“I asked you how you were doing.”

“Better now that I know you're all right. When did you get back in town?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago?” I snapped. “Where've you been? I called your job and you weren't there. And you haven't been in church for the past three Sundays.”

“I was at home getting my life together.”

A twinge of jealousy hit me, but I played it off. “So you and Trustee Moss are working things out.”

“No, I told you in San Francisco that I was no longer going to live a lie. Me and Trustee Moss are getting divorced.” There was no remorse or regret in Jackie's voice, almost to the point that it scared me. “Oh, there was a lot of cursing, then crying and more cursing. And believe me, there's going to be a lot of talking about me in church this Sunday. But in the long run, I think what I did was for the best.”

“Did you say anything about us?” I held my breath as I waited for the answer.

“No, I didn't give out any names, but I did say I was in love.”

I swallowed hard, thankful that my name would be left out of the impending church gossip. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Something I've wanted to do for the past three weeks.” Jackie closed the three-foot gap between us, then reached up and placed a hand gently behind my neck, pulling my head down until our lips met. I parted Jackie's lips with my tongue as my hands began to roam.

“I missed you so much, Brent,” Jackie whispered between kisses.

“I missed you too, baby.” I was now kissing Jackie's neck and earlobes, while at the same time, Jackie's hands were exploring my chest and lightly pinching my nipples.

“Take this off,” Jackie moaned, gesturing for me to pull my shirt off. I glanced at the grandfather clock on the far side of the living room. It was six o'clock. Visiting hours at the hospital wouldn't be over for at least another two hours. We had plenty of time.

As my shirt came off, I eased my way toward the sofa. Without missing a beat, my lover began to kiss and nibble on my chest until both my tiny nipples were hard as b.b.'s. I felt wet kisses across my abdomen, and spider-like fingers massaging my manhood through my baggy jeans.

“I don't wanna lose you, Brent. If you wanna play house with Alison, then fine, but I don't wanna lose you.”

“I just want things to be the way they were, sweetheart. I just want us both to be happy.” My pants fell to the ground and my penis poked at my boxers.

“Oh, God, I just wanna taste it,” Jackie moaned.

In what seemed like no time, my boxers were down on the floor with my pants, and I was stepping out of both. I stepped back and fell onto the sofa. Jackie, who was still standing, slid down to one knee. I watched in lustful anticipation as my lover's head came closer and closer to my groin. When it finally reached its destination, I was moaning loud enough to wake the dead.

Jackie was putting it on me like I'd never had it done before, and I defied even Super Head, the Video Vixen, to match my lover's skill. I closed my eyes, trying my best to catalog the pleasure I was receiving in my mind. With any luck, on one of those bad days sexually with Alison, I'd be able to pull up this memory. But enough about her. It was time to concentrate on the business at hand, because Jackie's head was bobbing and twisting around my penis like a waterspout. When the moment arrived for my ejaculation, my body went into uncontrollable convulsions and I screamed at the top of my lungs as I sat straight up. I opened my eyes to both the most pleasurable and the most terrifying moment of my life, because standing behind Jackie was my stunned wife.

“James, will you stop pacing before you wear a hole in my damn floor!” my mother shouted from her seat at the kitchen table.

She was right. I was probably doing some damage to her living room carpet as I walked back and forth, holding the phone against my ear, listening to Michelle's home phone ring endlessly. Marcus had been with me for three weeks now, so I had practically worn a path on the floor I walked across each time I called Michelle and waited in vain for her to answer.

I hadn't been able to reach Michelle at her house or on her cell phone. I knew she had been back to her house at least once, though. For the first few days, I had been able to leave messages at her house. Now the answering machine wasn't picking up, so she'd obviously shut it off. It pissed me off to know that she'd ignored my calls, and even worse, she'd ignored the one where I let Marcus speak into the phone. He was doing all right at my mother's house, and I'd gone to buy a few toys to keep him occupied, but he really missed his mother. I couldn't understand how Michelle could be so cold when she undoubtedly heard his sad little voice on her answering machine.

I clicked the phone off angrily and headed into the kitchen to sit with my mother. She slid a cup of coffee across the table to me but didn't say a word. I know she was probably getting sick of seeing my face every morning when this was only supposed to be a one-night stay.

“She's still not answering,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Why don't you just go by there? She has to come home sooner or later, doesn't she?”

“I've been by there a few times, Ma, but she's never home. I don't know what the hell is going on, but she's hiding from me. I just can't believe she doesn't want her son back.”

“I know. It's hard to imagine a woman who could abandon her child, but at this point, I don't think you should be surprised by anything she does. You've gotten yourself into one hell of a mess, haven't you?” She couldn't hide her annoyance as she frowned at me.

“Ma,” I asked cautiously, “do you think you could watch Marcus for a while today?”

“Why? What are you going to do?” She did not sound pleased. Although she had initially offered to help me with Marcus so I could keep the secret from Cathy, now that the truth was out, Ma seemed a little less eager to be involved.

“I've gotta find Michelle. If I have to, I'm gonna sit outside her house all day until she comes home. She can't keep ignoring me like this.”

“Go ahead,” she said abruptly, clearly still upset with me.

“Thanks, Ma,” I said as I stood up. “And if Cathy calls—”

“James, don't. You know she's not going to call you. You're going to have to be the one to start that conversation with your wife.”

“I know,” I said sadly. “That's why I have to find Michelle. I can't talk to her until Michelle takes Marcus back. If Cathy has to see him again, it would be a constant reminder of the affair.”

“It sure is, but you better get over there to see her soon. There's no telling what she said to your boys. They probably think you've abandoned them at this point.”

I don't know if she said it to hurt my feelings, but my mother's words were like a slap in the face. I missed my boys so much, it caused me physical pain. I left my mother's house determined to find Michelle and settle this whole thing.

 

I sat outside her house for hours, waiting for Michelle and thinking about everything that had happened. I still couldn't understand how she would just leave her son like that, but it was starting to sink in that this was much deeper than I thought. She hadn't left him just to make a statement after our fight. There was more to this, but I wouldn't know what it was unless I could get her to talk to me.

In the meantime, I had to face the possibility that she might not ever want to take Marcus back. What would I do if that happened? As much as I didn't want it to be true, he was my flesh and blood. If his mother didn't want him, could I reject him too? Would I put him into foster care if it were the only way my wife would let me come home? I didn't really want to consider these possibilities, so I just kept telling myself that sooner or later, Michelle would come home and I'd get her to realize what a mistake she was making.

My patience finally paid off six hours after I parked across the street from her house. A cab pulled up in front and Michelle stepped out, carrying a shopping bag from Macy's. I shook my head. I guess since she didn't have to buy diapers and food anymore, she had a little extra to spend on herself.

I jumped out of my car and ran across the street as Michelle stood in front of her door, searching for keys in her bag. I shouted her name as I approached. She turned around and cursed.

“Stay away from me, James. I ain't got nothing to say to you.” She continued searching frantically for the keys. It didn't matter. I was not about to let her go into that house without me.

“You have nothing to say to me?” I asked incredulously. “How about, ‘How's my son?' Don't you even care how Marcus is doing since you dropped him off with my wife?”

She smirked wickedly. “Oh, yeah, I bet she liked that, didn't she? I saw on my caller ID that you're not calling from home anymore. She kicked your ass out, didn't she?” She placed her key in the lock and turned it, laughing at the domestic turmoil she'd set into motion.

My fingers clenched into tight fists, and I crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from punching her like I wanted to. “This is not a fuckin' joke, Michelle. You might think it's funny to be fucking with my marriage, but how could you use your son to do it? What kind of woman are you?”

She whipped her head around and glared at me through dark eyes. “Don't go there, James. You ain't been around the last three years. You have not earned the right to judge me, 'cause you have no fuckin' idea what it's been like for me.”

I followed her into the house when she opened the door. She paused for a moment like she was thinking about telling me to get out, but then she just dropped her Macy's bag on the table and slumped onto the couch. I followed her, standing beside the couch to look down at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? Do you know how many women are out there raising children by themselves? And they don't dump their kids just because they want a little time to themselves. Shit, I don't know what you're complaining about. I might not have been there from the start, but I sure as hell have been watching him for you plenty of nights ever since I found out I was his father.” I sat on the arm of the couch and waited for her reply.

“It ain't even about that,” she finally said quietly. I was surprised by how defeated she sounded. She'd lost her fire so quickly this time. Maybe she did miss Marcus. Maybe this was an opening for me to get her to change her mind and take him back.

“What is it, then?” I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle. “Why did you leave him, Michelle? Your son misses you.”

She remained tight-lipped, so I kept prodding.

“Is it the money? I know it's been hard for you to raise him by yourself. Look, if it will help, I'll increase the amount of child support I give you each week so you can cut back on your hours at work. Marcus needs his mother. He needs to be with you. I can't give him the nurturing that you can.” As I said the words, I hoped it didn't sound like the bullshit I knew it was. Obviously Michelle wasn't giving him much nurturing if she could just dump him like some orphan.

“It ain't the money,” she said with a sigh. “You just don't get it, do you?”

“No, Michelle, I don't get it. You need to explain it to me.”

She dropped her head into her hands, and I waited patiently for her to speak. I felt like I was getting close to an answer, so I didn't want to set her off now. I desperately needed her to open up to me so I could help her with her problem and send Marcus home. Finally, she looked up at me.

“How am I supposed to give love to my child if I ain't got no one giving love to me?” she asked.

Was she kidding? Was she really that selfish? If she was trying to imply that she would take the boy back as long as I showed her some love, then she was out of her damn mind.

“Michelle,” I started carefully, “you know I love my wife. I know you're lonely, but I can't possibly—”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I do not want you.”

Now I was lost. “Then what are you talking about?”

“It's Trent,” she answered.

“Trent? You mean, your ex-boyfriend?”

She nodded.

“What about him? I thought he dropped you as soon as he found out the results of the paternity test.” Michelle had told me that story not long after I started going to her place to babysit Marcus. Trent had been her boyfriend before I hooked up with her, and when she had Marcus, she wasn't really sure who his father was. She hoped it was Trent, though, because he was supposedly the love of her life. They got back together for a while when Marcus was an infant, and she convinced Trent that he was the baby's father. The relationship wasn't all roses, though. Trent had a shady side of his own, and he had another woman he was stringing along for her money. To make a long story short, Trent and Michelle ended up taking a paternity test—on the daytime talk show
Two Sides to Every Story
, no less—and Trent found out in front of millions of viewers that he was not Marcus's father. Michelle said that the day they taped the show was the last time he talked to her, so I had no idea what he had to do with the mess I was in right now.

“Trent came to see me at work a few weeks ago. We've been talking,” Michelle admitted. Something about the way she said his name made it obvious she still loved this guy. From everything I'd heard about his personality, these two deserved each other.

“If that's what you want, I'm happy for you, Michelle. But what does that have to do with your son?” I had to keep her focused on Marcus if I had any hope of sending him back home to her.

“Trent wants to get back with me.”

“Like I said, that's great. Now, what about Marcus?”

She looked into my face and said calmly, “He says he can't stand the thought of raising another man's child,” as if this was a perfectly acceptable thing for a man to demand of his woman.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” I asked, unable to believe she was. Could she really be willing to abandon her child just to be with her ex? The irony of it was making me sick to my stomach. She could understand Trent not wanting to raise another man's child, yet she was expecting Cathy to raise another woman's son. Then again, I realized, she probably hadn't given a thought to Cathy's feelings. Yes, she was that selfish.

“What else am I supposed to do, James? I am so sick of being lonely. Every time you came over to babysit, I tried to open the door for us to have a relationship again, but you made it more than clear you didn't want me. And now that Trent has come back, I know he's the only man I want in my life. I love him, and I'll do anything to keep him this time.”

My head was starting to hurt from trying to understand how a mother could think this way. “Are you listening to yourself, Michelle? Don't you love Marcus at all?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I love myself too. If I lose Trent again, I'll just end up being lonely and miserable, and you wouldn't want me to take that out on Marcus, would you? It's better off that I send him to live with you now, before I do any damage to him.”

“You've already damaged him!” I was through trying to understand her. “That boy cries every night, asking when his mommy is coming to get him. Are you really going to be able to live with yourself, knowing you abandoned your child?” This was my final effort to get her to change her mind, but it was no use.

“Don't worry about whether I'll be able to live with myself. Plenty of women have abortions, and they get over it and get on with their lives.” My mouth hung open in disbelief as I listened to her warped logic. “Shoot, at least I gave the boy life. I coulda had an abortion like all these other girls out here, and then he never woulda been born. He's young. He'll forget all about me. You'll take good care of him, James.” She got up from the couch and went to the mirror to fix her hair.

“Now, if you don't mind,” she said casually, as if we hadn't just been discussing the fate of her child, “Trent is coming over in a little while, so I need you to get outta here. He's the jealous type, you know.”

I sat speechless for a moment, my mind reeling with confusion. This conversation had not gone anything like I had expected. I truly believed I would be able to talk some sense into Michelle and things would go back to the way they were; I would convince Cathy to take me back, and Michelle would be satisfied with child support and an occasional night of babysitting. This new reality was not something I was ready to comprehend.

Michelle stood humming, admiring herself in the mirror and applying lipstick like she didn't have a care in the world. Her son's life was about to be forever altered, and all she seemed to care about was her boyfriend's upcoming visit.

As I let myself out, I prayed for some direction. Things would never be the same for Marcus, but these events would also affect my other sons and my wife in ways I could only imagine. In time my shock would wear off, and I would have to decide on the next step of my plan, the one that would inflict the least amount of pain on everyone involved.