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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.
“Hum,” she said and looked over at Coreen. “He’s here with her?”
“Yes,” I said again.
“Should’ve told us that first,” the tall cop said. “We would’ve given you more time on him.” They both exchanged glances and a short, nervous laugh.
“I know what you’re feeling. We see this all the time,” Officer Cox said, writing again. “But you have to control yourself.”
“And not let the cops see you hit your husband,” the tall cop said.
“Cox,” the officer in charge called, coming toward us as he adjusted his holster.
Jamison turned toward the house when the officer walked away, but I could tell he was crying. He punched the door so hard it sounded as if a gun had gone off.
“Ma’am, I need you to go on in the house,” the white officer said to Coreen. “We’ll come in and speak with you after we’re done out here.”
Coreen turned and looked at me quickly, her eyes still wet with confession. She went to walk into the house, reaching first for Jamison, who stepped away from her immediately.
The older officer signaled again for Cox to walk toward him.
“You just stand here, calm, and I’ll be right back,” she said, stepping away.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I could see some trace of dread in her eyes.
“She’s just talking to our captain is all,” the other officer said. “Standard procedure.”
“Am I in any trouble?” I watched as Officer Cox talked to the captain. Her eyes dropped and she placed her hand over her mouth just like Coreen had.
“Probably not,” the officer said. “They’ll probably let you go.”
