Ain't No Wifey 2 (3 page)

The doorbell jolted me from my prior destination as I rushed to the door and looked out the side glass windows. A girl, that appeared a little older than me, held a baby on her hip. She looked around while bouncing the little girl who looked too damn old to be on her hip. The little girl looked about five years old. I opened the door and looked around her as if I was expecting someone else.             

              “Can I help you?” I asked politely and impatiently. I had a test sitting on the counter of my half bath that I needed the results to.

              “Is Donovan Jackson here?” she tried to look pass me. I closed the door behind me and stepped out.

              “He isn’t. I’m his wife. Can I help you with something?” I was trying to be as polite as I could be but the scowl she had on her face, when I mentioned I was his wife, made me want to deck her in the face.

              “His wife? Donovan isn’t married,” she rolled her eyes. I guess the little girl was getting too heavy because she sat her ass down.

              “He does now. My name is Milan Jackson,” I said, purposely extending the hand with a 5-carat diamond ring on it.

              “Well, since you’re his wife, I guess this involves you, too. My name is Kareema and this is Tavia. She is Donovan’s daughter,” she announced and folded her arms. She smirked at the expression that was on my face.

              “You’re mistaken, Donovan doesn’t have any children,” I managed to mumble. There was no denying this child was his. She resembled him.

              “It’s a lot you don’t know about, Donovan,” she chuckled.

              “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

              “Your ‘husband’ is a registered sex offender.  Bet he didn’t tell you that one, did he?” She picked the little girl up and went back to her car.

I slammed my door so hard and sat on the ottoman that furnished the foyer. I needed to sit because I felt like I was about to faint any minute. Once, I regained my composure I got up and grabbed my laptop. I searched Donovan’s name and age and old city and up popped a website with all his information on it. His crime was committed in Chicago, which is where he was originally from. Is that why he moved to California? 

              I ran to the bathroom to grab my cellphone and noticed the pregnancy test was negative. I blew a sigh of relief. A baby wasn’t in the cards for me right now, especially after what I was just told. I thought we told each other everything, I know I did. My life was an open book. I had grabbed my cellphone to call Minka, when I heard the downstairs door slam I screamed unintentionally. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t get out of there before he returned home.

              “Wife, where you out?” he called out, I crouched down behind my long dresses so he didn’t see me. I heard him when he came into my walk-in closet right before he pulled me from under the dresses. Damn!

              “Why the hell you hiding, Milan?” Donovan questioned.

              “Get the fuck away from me you rapist!” I screamed swinging on him rapidly. He tried to dodge the hits but they kept on coming. My arms felt like rubber by the time I finished hitting him.

              “You done yet?” he asked, out of breath.

              “How could you? Lie to me out all people. I was down for you when no one was. I loved you and took your last name. Why did you ask me to marry you in Vegas if you were hiding this from me?” I yelled.

              “Milan! Stop being fucking dramatic, I am not Terrance Howard and you aren’t Ashanti. Stop acting foolish,” he said firmly.

              “Fuck you!” I yelled back while trying to push past him. He pushed me on the bed and I flinched.

              “Please don’t rape me, please,” I blurted. Donovan stopped trying to calm me down and looked at me with the most sorrow-filled eyes I have ever witnessed.

              “Wow, typical woman. I’m trying to calm you down and you accuse me of trying to rape you? Have I ever taken sex from you? Go ahead, Milan, with that bullshit. Leave, I don’t give a fuck anymore,” he sighed and left out the room. I heard the door slam behind him. I knew I fucked up. I should’ve asked.

              I jumped off the bed and called the only person I knew could shed some light on this: Micah. I grabbed my cellphone and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring. I knew he was in town to help Minka with her move.

              “Aye, Milan. What’s good?” he asked, cheerful. I guess Minka must have broken him off.

              “Can you talk?”

              “Yeah, hold on it’s Donovan…”

              “Wait! Please don’t answer and just come straight here. Please, Micah, don’t answer,” I begged.

              “Aight, sis, I’m in your neighborhood… be there in about five minutes.” He ended the call. I hoped like hell he didn’t answer Donovan.

              More like ten minutes later Micah came in the door with a glow plastered on his face. I knew the fact that Minka was moving to Miami with him had him on cloud nine. He sat at the kitchen counter and I handed him a soda. He cracked it opened.

              “What’s up, sis?”

              “Micah, is Donovan a sex offender?” I blurted. He started choking on the soda. I went and patted him on the back then handed him a napkin.

              “Who told you that?”

              “Some girl name Kareema and a little girl stopped by a little while ago. She claimed Donovan was a sex offender and they have a daughter together. He came home and I went ham on his ass about it before I even got the chance to ask. While trying to calm me down he pinned me down and I screamed at him not to rape me,” I explained, out of breath.

              “Why the fuck would you say some dumb shit out your mouth, Milan? Donovan has never tried to rape you before so why would he try now that you found out about his past?” Micah barked. It kind of took me back for a minute. I understood why; I was stupid not to find out what happened before making accusations.

              “I know, Micah, I fucked up. Can you tell me what happened?”

              “You should’ve asked that shit before you went assuming shit.”

              “First, I reacted. Any woman would have who found out her husband was a child rapist. Don’t blame me for my actions, blame me for my delivery,” I snapped. I wasn’t about to let him make me feel like I was the one wrong in this.

              “Y’all married now. This needs to be worked out. Jacksons don’t get married to get divorced.”

              “Yeah, whatever. Where’s my sister?”

              “Packing. She wants to make sure everything arrives in Miami safely. I got a surprise for her ass, too.” He laughed and finished his soda.

              “I can’t believe you’re moving my sister away from me. What’s the surprise?” I asked, being nosey.

              “Ok…but don’t tell her! You and Donovan own a vacation house a few blocks down from the house I just closed on.”

              “You moving in the same neighborhood? You bought another house? Nigga, you balling….huh?”

              “The house in Calabasas just sold last week, so I got us a new house. She ain’t feeling staying at the house I was leasing.”

              “I’m glad y’all could get back together and be a family for my niece. Make sure y’all don’t let bitches come in between,” I advised him.

              “Get your marriage right before giving me advice. I got my wifey back. Go get hubbie.” He hugged me and headed to the door.

              “I really can’t stand your ass like the brother I never wanted.”

              “Nah, like the brother you never wanted but can’t live without.” He shot the soda can in the garbage and turned to leave.

              I went into my closet and packed a few items. I wasn’t about to call Donovan. He had some nerve to catch an attitude when he was the one running around here lying. He had me fucked up if he thought I was about to be kissing his ass. I still had the condo in LA and that was where I would be staying until I could think of what I wanted to do. I stuffed a few things in my bag and locked up the house. I chirped the alarm on my Bentley coupe and hopped in. I looked at my beautiful house and pulled out the driveway.

6

Kareema

              My phone rang for the seventh time before I pulled the covers off of me and shuffled down the hall to the house phone. Of course by the time I made it to the phone, it stopped ringing. I grabbed the cordless phone and looked into my daughter’s room. She was sleep so peacefully and she looked just like Donovan. Disgusting. When I had my daughter you would have thought motherly instincts would have kicked in. Mine must have been delayed or something because I didn’t feel anything for my child.

              Tavia was a reminder that I would be nothing but a hood rat that got pregnant at sixteen because I couldn’t keep my legs closed. All she required was attention; it was always about her and never about me. Until Sasha tracked me down, Tavia lived with my mother and I lived with whoever let me crash on their couch. I don’t know how she tracked me down but she did and I’m grateful.

              Donovan was and is still the love of my life. We met when I was sixteen and he just turned twenty-one. Yeah, I had no business up in a bar with a ‘freak me’ dress on, yet, I still was. My girl, Jazzy, and I snuck into this bar back home in Chicago. Donovan was knocking them back with his right hand man. I already knew he was making money and he was single as a dollar bill. My girl and me slipped into the seats next to them and ordered two shots of Patron.

              Five shots later and we were all having a great time. I didn’t mention my age to Donovan because it didn’t matter. After getting completely trashed, we headed out. My girl, Jazzy’s brother picked us up and took us back to his place but not before I slipped my number in Donovan’s pocket. While I was riding Jazzy brother’s dick that night, all that was on my mind was Donovan.

              As expected, he called. I knew he would why wouldn’t he? I was a little bad bitch. My auburn hair came down my back and my light brown eyes were almond shaped with long eyelashes. My body was stacked like a brick house and I had the head game of a genius. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and I was falling right in love with Donovan. Six months into our relationship, I slipped and he found out I was still sleeping with Jazzy’s brother while I was with him.

I kept it secret until one night I slipped up and was caught sucking his dick in the back of a club. Donovan disowned my ass like a preacher with a gay son. Around that time, I found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t know who the father was. I wanted it to be Donovan’s but I knew it was a chance it could also be Jazzy’s brother’s, too.

I would call him and he never answered. I would show up to his house he would slam the door in my face. How much could a sixteen year old take before she breaks? I broke and told my mother the whole story about me being with an older man and him taking advantage of me. I knew it was evil, yet I still wanted him to hurt just as much as I was hurting.

              Donovan was arrested and charged with statutory rape and I sat back knowing he couldn’t be with anyone else. I delivered my baby girl and the first thing that was put in her mouth was a cotton swab, which proved he was the father. He was facing about five years until he took a plea deal for 10 years’ probation to avoid doing any jail time. I could thank Micah and his stupid lawyer for that. Not too long after that, he transferred to live in California. After seeing he didn’t want anything to do with Tavia or me, I pawned that little bitch on my mother.

              Of course, my saint bitch of a mother found out the truth while reading my diary. She demanded I go down and tell them I lied about the story. Do I look stupid? That man hurt my heart and she thought I was going to let him off with a tap of the wrist. She kicked me out the house but not before I dropped my demon spawn off on her ass. I never visited my daughter and she called me Reema.

              Now, Sasha contacted me through Facebook a couple weeks back talking about she has a plan where Tavia could see her father. I didn’t care about her seeing him; I wanted to see him. I was now twenty-one and ready to reclaim my man. When I knocked on his door I didn’t expect him to be married and especially not to one of his singers signed to his label. Shawty was bad. Point, blank, period. I also didn’t expect for her new Bentley to be parked in the driveway either.

              When I asked Sasha how she found out about me, she told me she always looked through Donovan’s office when they lived together. Her reasons for helping me didn’t add up but I still went along with it.

              The ringing house phone shuddered interrupted me from my hating thoughts. I picked up the phone and huffed into the receiver.

              “Hello?”

              “Kareema?” it sounded like Donovan so my ears perked up.

              “Yes, who is this?” I played along.

              “You know damn well who this is. Why the fuck you coming to California starting shit!” he yelled.

              “Nigga, please, I ain’t starting shit. The question is why you leave behind shit,” I spat back.

He pissed me off because now my daughter was up crying. I rolled my eyes and walked into her room. I opened the bottle of Benadryl and gave her another serving. Her ass would be sleep again in no time. Once she tasted the bubblegum flavor she relaxed and played with her Vtech toy. I forgot I was still on the phone; I was so consumed with putting this child to sleep.

              “Hello, Donovan, I’m here for you to be a father to your child and to stop running from responsibility.” I picked at my nails.

              “Kareema, take ya’ ass back to Chicago. I send money for Tavia to your mother. I bet ya’ stink ass didn’t know that?”

              “Nigga, please.”  I peeked back into her room and she was out cold. I walked back to my bedroom and lay across my bed while flicking my pierced nipples. I wished Donovan was whispering sweet nothings into the phone but instead he was threating me.