Page 3 of His First Wife

“I’ll be damned if I let you walk back into that house with that woman,” I hollered. “Does she know you’re married? That you have a son on the way? Why can’t she come out here and face me? Don’t be embarrassed. I’m here now.” I tried to push my way through the doorway, but Jamison held me back.

“Let me in,” I said, pushing my way in farther. “I just want to see her. I just want to see her. I want to see the woman you chose over me.”

“Don’t do this,” he said, pulling my arms. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

I pulled back and looked my husband in the eyes. We’d known each other for twelve years. He was my first love. The only man I’d ever imagined marrying. He looked so naked standing there in front of me. So defenseless. He had pale, milky white skin, looked almost white sometimes in pictures, and the centers of his cheeks were beet red, the color they turned when he was sad or angry.

“Don’t do what? Anything foolish?” I cried. “Foolish ? You jerk. You fucking jerk.”

I practically jumped into Jamison’s arms and started pounding my fists into his face. He was 6’5”, well over a foot taller than me, but I was towering above him then. Every bit of anger and frustration I felt grew me taller. I was swinging and screaming and hitting to make him feel the pain I felt. I was beat down and beat up by his lies and now I wanted him to feel the same thing. It didn’t stop what I was feeling, but it felt good, like I was releasing something. Letting go, or at least loosening up my anger.

“Foolish,” I screamed. “I’ll show you foolish.”

“Ma’am, stop it!” I heard an authoritative voice before I felt a hand pull at my shoulder. “Ma’am.”

My body was being lifted up. I felt two hands on both of my sides.

/> “She’s pregnant,” Jamison said, reaching for me as the hands pulled me farther back. I turned to see two police officers standing beside me, while two others were holding me. Suddenly, I could see the flashing lights from their cars in the street, the flickering blues hitting small groups of people huddled in different places along the curb. There had to be at least six cars out there, and all I could think was where they’d come from and who they were there for.

“He ain’t worth it,” one woman said in the crowd.

I turned to look at Jamison. There were so many people there, so many people I didn’t know, and I felt like adding Jamison to the list. He seemed a part of this place, farther and farther away from me than I thought.

“Do you live here, ma’am?” one of the officers asked me. She was the only woman and she was so small the blue uniform seemed to swallow her up.

“No,” I said.

“That’s Coreen’s house,” someone called from the crowd.

Then, as if the person had summoned her, Coreen Carter came shuffling out the door. Her face was streaked with tears that seemed bigger than mine. Her eyes were red and she was visibly shaken. She stepped outside and stood beside Jamison in front of the door.

Seeing the cops had brought me back to reality, but seeing Coreen stand beside my husband sent me into what I can only call an out-of-body experience. Baby and all, I twisted out of the police officers’ hands and charged after her. The word “nerve” was echoing in my head and if I had my way, I wanted to cut it into her chest with my bare hands. I was filled with rage. With disbelief. My life wasn’t supposed to be like this. My marriage wasn’t supposed to be like this. And love wasn’t supposed to feel like this. All I could do was blame her for all three.

The female cop and another tall, white cop caught me and pulled me farther down the walkway, away from Jamison and Coreen, who were standing together.

“Ma’am,” the female officer said, standing in front of me. “I’m Officer Cox. What’s your name?”

“Kerry . . . Kerry Taylor.”

“Ms. Taylor, I can see that you’re upset, but I need you to calm down, so I can talk to you and figure out what exactly is going on here.” Her eyes were soft and brown like my Aunt Luchie’s. The look on her face was sincere, kind, like she was the only person out there who understood what I was feeling. “Now we don’t want anything to happen to your baby. You understand?”

“Yes,” I said. I wiped a tear from my eye and looked over at Jamison. He was talking to two male officers, a fat white one and a black one who seemed like he was in charge. Coreen was standing beside him with her hand over her mouth.

“You don’t live here?” Officer Cox asked me again.

I shook my head no.

“Were you sleeping here?”

“No,” I said, looking at Jamison. He was looking back at me. Tears were in his eyes. The other officer was telling him not to come over to me.

“Is that man with you?” the other, tall officer asked me.

“He’s my husband.”

The weight of my words must’ve surprised both of them. Officer Cox stopped writing on her little pad and looked at the other officer.

“Yes,” I said, confirming what they were both thinking.

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