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“After,” I whispered in despair at the thought of being pregnant with Randy’s baby.
“Oh, my God, Asha, you don’t think . . . I mean, were you with anyone else besides Randy after Nick?” she asked with hope.
“No.” I sighed and lay down on the bed in fetal position.
“Oh, man, this is way too much,” she said, pacing across the floor with her head in her hands.
I listened to the creaking sound her feet made across the wooden floor and her heavy sighs, and I wanted to scream. I felt as if I was trapped in the Twilight Zone and there was nowhere to run. How could I possibly be pregnant when Randy and I always used a condom? The odds of that happening were a million to one and I had the unwelcome honor of becoming that one percent statistic. I wished that I wasn’t allergic to birth control pills because I would’ve taken them by the handful. I jumped up from the bed like lightning and ran into the kitchen.
“Don’t do anything stupid!” Saundra yelled behind me.
I picked up the fifth of rum and poured myself a teacup full and downed my shot like I was in a Western.
“Shit!” I screamed as loud as I could and slammed down the cup.
Chapter 27
SAUNDRA
Today Asha is supposed to go see a doctor during her lunch hour. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be pregnant with a deceased lover’s baby, or even worse, for that child to grow up knowing its father had a heart attack because its mother was a bitch.
I still can’t believe Randy died and I regret not staying on the phone a couple of more hours when he had called me, but I guess there is nothing I could have done to ease his pain. If that’s not distressing enough, his sister is making Asha’s life a living hell. Although I know things happen for a reason and there are no “accidents,” I still wish that I could make things easier for Asha.
In a way I feel kind of bad that I kept calling her a “karma time bomb” because that’s exactly what she turned out to be and, boy, did it explode. I think it’s a shame when pregnancies are unplanned because I believe it has negative effects on the mother. No matter how much love is between them, the mother will always subconsciously know she didn’t mean for it to happen.
I also don’t understand why a woman would sleep with a man if he’s not fit enough to father a child because every time you have sex pregnancy is a possibility, regardless of contraceptive devices.
Another one headed for bad karma is my dear father, Phillip. I have reasons to suspect that he is being unfaithful to Evelyn. He’s been coming home late from work, chuckles all night on the phone like an adolescent and shops a lot more.
What is especially strange is that of all the bags he brings home, I never see the contents of any of them. It seems like after he buys whatever it is, it just disappears without a trace. Although I’m dying of curiosity, I wouldn’t dare invade his privacy. Sometimes I think I’m just too good.
Yero doesn’t think he’s cheating on Evelyn but he did say my father might be purchasing some kinky sex toys. I laughed with repulsion at the notion and rejected it immediately. My father is a cop for crying out loud. He busts perverts like that.
Yero smiled in that “you never know” way and I turned my back on him.
It feels sooo good to finally be on vacation after last month’s hectic schedule. The month’s Black Heroes celebration at the community center was a disaster. Someone had broken into the center the night before and stolen everything in sight, including the children’s artwork.
The children were disappointed because they had worked so hard to raise money for the celebration by selling raffle tickets and candy. Everyone’s heart sank when we saw the cold empty space that once housed beautiful decorations and a warm cedarwood kinara. As the howling children were comforted by the counselors, I wondered who could be so low as to steal from the kids.
Yero and I had planned a wonderful program filled with arts and crafts, plays, folk tales and a fashion show. Yero decided that we shouldn’t let the situation ruin our holiday so he decided to have everybody over at his house. There was no point in staying at the community center because it would’ve been too depressing for the children and counselors alike. Since we called h
is mother at the last minute, we didn’t have all of the trimmings but it turned out to be a joyous celebration just the same. We told the children that their heroes are in their hearts and maybe that was a better lesson for them to learn anyhow.
When I saw Yero with all of those children, doing face painting, I couldn’t help but smile. I remembered his behavior when he heard that Khari was going to make him an uncle and knew he had just lashed out in fear. He loved kids and would be a great father to our many many children.
He never talks about Khari and Joanne’s situation anymore.
Joanne comes from a strict Haitian family which threw her out when she got pregnant. Not only do they not like Khari because he’s American, they won’t accept a sexually active unmarried daughter.
Her parents told her they want nothing to do with her even though she isn’t expecting anymore. They had high hopes for her to be a lawyer, marry a Haitian man from a good family and live happily ever after. She said that the only way matters could be worse is if Khari was Jamaican.
While Yero told me all of this, I shook my head repeatedly with disgust and disbelief. What the hell difference does it make where we’re from when we have other battles to confront? I remember the girls in high school fighting over the same “Island Wars” and it seemed stupid then and it still is. My father always taught me that we are all black people who may have come on different ships but are still in the same boat. I wish all black people could wake up and see that.
Right now the primary focus should be on Joanne’s mental health not nationality.
I swear I will never understand parents like Jo’s; how can you kick your child out like that? I could see if she was on drugs, stealing, or something like that, but I can’t picture putting your pregnant daughter out. They don’t even know what kind of environment she’s going to be in and they never saw Khari’s mother a day in their lives. Luckily for her, Denise treats her son’s girlfriends like family or Jo would really be knee deep.
Sometimes other people’s problems can be exhausting to listen to.
