I headed to the bathroom. “I don’t know why you want me to hurry up. I think the red devil is here.”
He pouted and grunted. Sometimes he can be such a baby, but since he tries so hard to spoil me, spoiling him is effortless. When I pulled down my panties, I was surprised that they were clean. Hmm. Oh well, I put on a pad anyway for protection, because I knew the devil would pop up sometime during the night. Dwight rolled over and almost immediately began to snore when I told him that there would be no hanky-panky.
I woke up around seven, forgetting that I had an entire free week before going to work. I sat up in bed trying to decide if I should go back to sleep, or watch TV, or clean up, or make breakfast, or go to my mother’s house. Some people always have to have something to do at all times and that is me. The thought of chilling made me anxious. I decided to get up and go to the bathroom. My period still hadn’t come. Okay, I’d been taking my pill daily. There was no logical reason why I was late. I attributed it to stress. Maybe I should just learn how to relax. I climbed back into bed and as usual admired Dwight as he slept peacefully. I caressed his chest until he started moving. When he appeared slightly coherent, I said, “Baby, do you know we could have done it last night? I didn’t even come on.”
“Do you think you’re pregnant?”
“Don’t play. You know I’m on the pill.”
“Man, I’m potent. You never know.”
“I hope you’re not that potent.”
“You should probably get a test.”
His recommendation went into one ear and out the other. He had the audacity to call from work a little later and ask me if I was positive that I wasn’t pregnant. I told him there was nothing to be concerned about. He said, “Man, as much sex as we have, you better make sure.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Make sure
. I am sure. There is no way I could be. A child would complicate an already overly complicated situation. My words came out slow. “What are we going to do if I am?”
“Did you hear me?”
“What?”
“If you’re pregnant, you won’t have to go through this alone. I promised you I’d be here for you and I will.”
“How can you say that when you’re still married?”
“I’ve just been procrastinating, but my plans never changed. It’s just a process of sending the papers.”
“It’s not just a process. What if she wants to fight for her marriage?”
“It’s no longer up to her. It’s too late.”
After Dwight got back to his work, I rushed out of the house and went to the grocery store to get a pregnancy test. When I got back into the house, I ran into the bathroom and ripped the box open. I straddled the toilet and peed on the indicator.
Let’s get this shit over before I go crazy.
I lay balled in a knot in the middle of the highway about to be run over by a car. Suddenly, I didn’t know how I transitioned from my bathroom to here. The piercing sound of brakes screeching in my ear shook sense into me. What the hell was I doing? I prayed it wasn’t too late. I lay still awaiting the impact of the car. The driver hopped out screaming, “Miss, are you crazy? I could have run you over.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay, miss?”
She helped me off the ground and cars blew their horns, irritated that I’d held up traffic. I thanked her again. I was happy she didn’t kill me or the baby growing inside of me. My mind drew a blank after I saw the positive results. My main focus was changing my situation. I staggered. The lady looked concerned and asked, “Do you need a ride?”
I nodded.
“How far are you going?”
“Just up the road . . .”
Overexpressing my gratitude, I hopped in her car and she dropped me off a block away from my development. I still felt woozy, but I was happy God had spared my life. I kept badgering myself. That was so stupid.
When I got home, I went online to see the rate of pregnancy with my new birth control pills. The damn pills I decided to switch to after seven years. The ones that were supposed to have a double benefit. They supposedly help your skin and help maintain your weight. I should have known that was too good to be true. Would you believe that these damn pills are known for this bullshit? I scrolled through the message board.
I took my pill at the same time, every day, and still got pregnant. These pills don’t prevent pregnancy
.
I became angry with all of the women on the website. Why didn’t anyone call me and tell me? I went into the kitchen and almost poured a drink. Oh God. This is not good. What do pregnant women do to calm their nerves? Before I could call him, he called me.
I picked up and said, “Oh my God, Dwight, I’m . . .”
“I know.”
“You know what?”
“I know you’re pregnant.”
My nerves danced around in my belly. “What are we going to do?”
“Just calm down. Getting all worked up isn’t going to change it.” Tears rolled down my face. He sighed. “Wow . . . this is crazy.”
The preoccupation in his voice scared me. I wanted him to sound like he did earlier when he was adamant that he was leaving his wife. Now, he sounded as if his world was crumbling rapidly. As he pondered on the line, I said, “Dwight, I hope you don’t think this was intentional.”
“I know you better than that. I just need to get my head right. A lot of things have to get done now. It’s urgent now. Wow . . .”
That was nearly the twentieth “wow.” I was confused. I was scared. I was angry. I wasn’t sure that I could be a good mother and here I was on the line with a man who belonged to someone else and his voice wasn’t reassuring me, either.
He told me that he’d come over after work. But now, I needed to talk to my mother. She wouldn’t convict me. She would understand me. I dialed her number, and before I spoke, I sniffed.
“Alicia, is everything okay?”
“No, I’m pregnant.”
She was quiet. Then she said, “It’s not the worst thing in the world. You make good money. You’re independent. You’ll be fine.”
“What about my relationship situation?”
“That will work itself out, too. Right now, just worry about you.”
“But, Ma . . .”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s going to do what he wants to do regardless. You need to focus on whether or not you’re prepared to be a mother. Whether you’re married or not, a baby is a woman’s responsibility. Marriage does not protect you from that.”
“I guess.”
“Well, I’m excited to be a grandmother. This is the best Christmas gift I’ve had in years. I thought it would never happen.”
She made me smile for a minute. “Yeah, I never really planned to have kids.”
“I think every woman should have one. When can I start telling people?”
I laughed. “Ma, I’m only like two days pregnant. Don’t start telling people yet. Let me go to the doctor’s first.”
“What is Dwight saying?”
“Not a whole lot.”
“Let him take it all in. He’ll come around in a minute. Just lay back and let him absorb it.”
And that’s what I did. I decided not to call and find out what time Dwight planned to leave work. Instead, I decided to keep my head straight. I didn’t need any more blackouts and near suicides. At least I’d already left the job. It could have been worse.
Several hours of agony passed before he called back. I thought about an abortion, but my mother called two or three times, adding more reasons why this is the right thing at the right time. When he told me that he was on his way, he just didn’t sound like himself.
By the time the doorbell rang, I’d thought about all of the outcomes. I was defensive as I swung the door open. His tie hung from his neck and his shirttail was halfway out. He smelled like a barrel of beer. He grabbed me and began kissing me. I was momentarily relieved. Maybe he wasn’t as frustrated as he had sounded on the phone. When I yanked away from him, he pulled me back. “Baby, can you believe this shit?”
I took a deep breath, walked away, and plopped down on the couch. He followed and lounged beside me. I stroked his back and asked, “What are we going to do?”
“I called my attorney.”
“And?”
“He’s drafting up the divorce papers as we speak.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“She definitely wants a divorce and I want to be with you.”
“How long will it take to be final?”
“If she doesn’t contest it, it will be final in thirty days.”
I leaned in to kiss him and to thank him for being a man and handling his business. He touched my face as I backed away and I noticed he was no longer wearing his ring. “You know I love you, right?”
“Now I do,” I said, still partially insecure. I wanted to know what came next, but I was afraid to ask.
Tracey
I
f I heard Dwight’s voice now, it would send chills through my body. I was irritated with him and our situation. I knew what I had to do. I awoke this morning and looked around my room. I missed Dwight not being here. All I could do was be the best mom and the best Tracey I could possibly be. Months had passed and I guess Dwight thought this arrangement was fine. “Operation Bring Husband Home” was proving to be an uphill battle, but I had to stay the course. I just filled my life with so many things so I wouldn’t notice he was gone. I take the girls to the science history museum, we color, and we go to the park. We’d even been hanging out with Sophia and Leah, going to the beach and on lunch dates. I signed up Destiny and Jordan for everything from tennis to modeling. I came home from work, I read books with the girls, prepared and ate dinner, then they went to bed. Once they’re asleep I got our clothes ready for the next day, and then I followed up on leads and e-mailed clients. If I wasn’t tired I would watch television and then get up and do it all over again.
He doesn’t want to call me, fine. I got forever. I’m not budging.
There was a loud knock on the door. I looked at my watch. Who would be knocking at my door at two in the afternoon? I peeped out of the blinds and noticed a sheriff. I quickly yanked the door open. Before I could ask why he was here, he said, “Tracey Yvette Wilson?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been served these court-ordered documents as of December sixteenth, 2006.” He turned to walk away.
“What is this? What kind of documents?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know. I just serve papers.”
I ripped open the manila envelope and nearly fainted. Divorce papers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I called Dwight. “I don’t believe you.”
He responded calmly, “Really. You don’t believe that I want to move on with my life?”
“And just forget about your family. Have you lost your mind?”
“I don’t plan to forget about my family. Look at the papers, Tracey. I plan to continue to take care of you. I’ll come to Jacksonville at least once a month to see the girls. I plan to do what I promised you when I married you. You demanded a divorce months ago and I wasn’t sure. I wanted to work things out and all you kept saying is if you can’t have it your way then you wanted a divorce. You got what you want.”
I breathed heavily on the phone. He wasn’t serious. He was just trying to scare me. This was nothing more than another tactic to make me come to Maryland. I wasn’t giving up what I was working on to chase my husband. It was time for Tracey to take care of me. And if Dwight loved me the way he claimed, he would understand. Our relationship had become a damn staring match. Who could hold out the longest?
“You’re right. I don’t want to be married to someone who would leave his family.”
“Have a nice day, Tracey. If you’re not too busy, please have my princesses call me this evening.”
“I’m not going to do shit. I’m going to explain to them that Mommy and Daddy are getting divorced and he doesn’t care about them.”
“Wow, I never realized you were so juvenile.”
The line went dead. I looked at the phone and tried to call him back. It kept going to voice mail. So I called his mother. I cried in the phone, “Mama Dee, Dwight sent me divorce papers.”
“Well, you told him you wanted a divorce,” she said unsympathetically.
“I know, but I didn’t mean it.”
“Well, Tracey, if a man can’t prioritize family then maybe you do want to divorce him. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did y’all think of counseling?”
“No, we just called it quits. I mean, maybe we’ve been growing apart for a long time, but we just didn’t know it until we weren’t in the same house.”
“If you want your marriage, you better work on it.”
I wanted her to call Dwight and tell him to bring his ass home, but she didn’t seem to be taking sides. It was moments like this when it was clear that no matter how long she’d known me or how much she loved me, I was her son’s wife and not her daughter.
She added, “Ask yourself have you done all you can do.”
“Yes, I’ve done all I can do.”
“Oh, well, then you got to make a decision.”
I huffed. She just didn’t understand. When I hung up, I called Danielle’s crazy ass. I hoped she’d give me better advice. As I explained what was going on, she said, “Girl, please. Dwight ain’t divorcing you. He just trying to scare you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, let his ass sweat it out. He know he got a good thing.”
“You’re right, Danny. I’m not going to worry about it. I’m not signing anything.”
“Yeah, rip those papers up and throw them in the trash.”
That’s exactly what I did. I sent Dwight a text message. as long as my bills are paid, you can have your divorce.
Alicia
D
wight’s divorce was days from final when we went for the sonogram. He’d let his apartment go and officially moved in with me, until he found the house he wanted. As we dressed for the appointment, he said, “You know what?”
“What?”
His verbal excitement didn’t coincide with his droopy chin. “It’s a boy.”
“You’re funny.”
“Actually, it’s not funny at all.”
I didn’t respond, because I knew what he was thinking. Some mornings I felt so happy, but then others were sad, because I never knew what was bothering him. I knew he missed his girls and his wife wasn’t letting him speak to them. There were times when I wondered if he missed her, if he was sure about us and our family. He always assured me this was what he wanted and I tried my best to assure him that he’d made a smart decision. As I watched him zone out, I knew this was a morning that he questioned us, and his uncertainty hurt.