Big Girls Do Cry (14 page)

“Had any offers lately? You couldn’t even keep that faggot from turning gay when he was your boyfriend. When I met you, you hadn’t had any dick for two years, so I think you know the real story. Ain’t nobody want you but me.”

I tried to get up. When he saw me struggling, he reached out his hand to help.

“Don’t touch me.” I swatted his hand away.

“Look, I’m not gonna hit you—as long as you don’t hit me. We just need to keep our hands off each other. And don’t be getting all upset and try calling the police, because I gave you a love tap. You did hit me first, remember. You lucky I didn’t hit you in the face.”

He offered me his hand again, and I refused again. I would never admit it to him, but I knew I was wrong for slapping him first. But then again, what was I supposed to do with the rage I felt after learning that his ass was cheating on me? It was humiliating.

I was tempted to pick up something and knock his ass out. My eyes searched the room for something to hit him with, but he must have figured out my intentions.

“Look, everybody’s gonna keep their hands to themselves, right?” He clenched his fists as a warning. “I know you’re mad, but you did hit me first. Don’t get your ass beat twice.”

Twice! I never thought I’d get my ass beat down like this in my own house once, even if I did start it. Before it had been just
a slap, but this time, Leon had hit me in the chest and stomach like a man. He was right about one thing, though: I was grateful he’d hit me below the neck so I’d be able to hide the bruises.

Part of me still wanted to call the police to get his ass back. The other part of me didn’t want to turn another black man over to the criminal justice system. Besides, with my luck, I’d be the one who ended up in jail for hitting him first.

He bent over and picked up what was left of his sandwich. “I’m sorry this had to happen. Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up. I’ll take you over to the River Tavern for dinner.”

“I don’t want your fucking food.” I glared at him evilly as I walked toward the stairs. After all this, I still hadn’t gotten a truthful answer on where he had been or whose underwear had been in my bed. He might have won this round, but the war was far from over. Turnabout was fair play.

I glanced at the clock radio on Rashad’s side of the bed. It was 10:05, and he still wasn’t home from work. He was usually home by seven, eight at the latest. I wish I could say I was just starting to get worried, but that would be a lie. I’d been worried since five o’clock when I called his cell, and it went straight to voice mail. I’d been blowing up his phone ever since, with the same result. My mind quickly ran through a million different scenarios, each one with an unhappy ending. He’d been drinking so much lately, ever since Tammy said no to surrogacy, and I had a bad feeling about him not answering my calls. I prayed he hadn’t gotten into an accident and hurt himself.

I wanted him to come home so I would know he was safe, and I wanted to tell him the good news. I wanted to put all his concerns to rest so we could be happy again.

It was sad but true; neither of us had been truly happy since my miscarriage. I wanted a baby of my own so bad, but more than that, I wanted my husband to be happy. And right now, the only thing in the world that would make him happy was a child of his own, conceived from his seed. I was sure he was starting to resent that his wife couldn’t bear his child. Not that I could blame him. I’d been beating myself up over the same issue ever since I found out I couldn’t have his baby.

For the first time in our marriage, I felt like I was losing my husband because I was less than a woman. Oh, he’d never admit it, and knowing him he’d try to stand by me. But the way he watched every child who passed us at the mall told me a different story. His lack of patience and recent short temper were
showing me he was starting to fall out of love with me. If this past week was any indication of our future, our marriage wasn’t going to make it.

He was really messed up over this baby thing, but I refused to give up on us. So, I’d orchestrated the impossible. A few hours ago, I’d asked my sister to be our surrogate and she agreed. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Rashad, because he was missing in action. Now all I had to do was find him so that I could tell him the good news, and both of us could start living our lives again.

Finally I heard his car pull into the driveway. I wanted to run to the door and curse him out for scaring me and not answering his phone, but this was not the time to be the annoying wife. I waited for him to come upstairs to our room.

“Hey.” I waved casually, as if his lateness didn’t bother me at all. He nodded as he entered our bedroom.

When I got up to kiss him, I was pleasantly surprised to find he didn’t reek of alcohol as I expected. Still, he didn’t look great. He was wearing a suit, but he wasn’t his usual well-groomed self. His eyes were bloodshot. His always-shaved head and face had a week’s worth of growth that accentuated his receding hairline and his bald spot.

I wanted to ask him where he’d been, but that wasn’t important now, because he was home safe.

“I’ve got good news.” My voice was full of excitement. I couldn’t wait to put a smile on his face.

“Is your sister gone?”

I shook my head. He wouldn’t be thinking about her in such a negative way once I gave him my news. “No, but she—”

“What did I tell you this morning?”

“I know, but hear me out first.”

He waved his hand at me, looking disappointed. “Not now, okay? I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

“But—”

“I said not now, Egypt, damn!” He stormed into the bathroom and shut the door so I wouldn’t follow him.

This was not turning out at all like I had planned. It looked like I had to deliver my news in a different way. “I found someone
who agreed to be our surrogate!” I yelled, hoping he would hear me through the closed door.

I heard him shut off the faucet, and then Rashad stepped out of the bathroom. In spite of being bloodshot, his eyes revealed his excitement. “You did?”

I was so relieved to see a glimmer of happiness in his eyes that I had to hold back tears of joy. “Yes, I did.”

“Who?”

“My sister.”

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Just like that, the sparkle was gone from his face, replaced by a dumbfounded look. “Do you have a sister I don’t know about?”

“No, just Isis.”

“This isn’t funny, Egypt. You know damn well your sister isn’t going to have a baby for us.” He stepped back into the bathroom again, but I ran behind him so he couldn’t shut me out this time.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny. She really said she’d do it.”

He leaned over to turn on the shower. As he undressed, he said, “Yeah, just to fuck with us. Picture your sister having a baby for us. She’s just stalling so we won’t kick her ass out.”

Could he be right? Had I let my sister dupe me? She knew I was desperate to have a child, and maybe she saw that as her opportunity to stay put, because Lord knows she didn’t have too many other options. He was definitely putting some doubt in my mind.

Still, for the past few hours, I’d been over the top with excitement, thinking our problems were solved. I couldn’t let go of hope that easily. “Rashad, she sounded pretty sincere.”

He stepped in the shower and closed the curtain. “Since when does your sister do anything if there’s not something in it for her? Can’t you see that she’s playin’ you for a place to stay?”

“Maybe you’re right, but she did seem pretty interested in when she was going to get that money.”

The shower stopped, and he poked his head out from behind the curtain. “What money?”

“She asked me for thirty grand as a surrogate fee.”

He considered what I’d said for a moment. I was expecting
him to tell me there was no way we were paying Isis to have our baby, but instead he said, “Did you tell her she’d have to sign papers giving up all her parental rights?”

“Of course I did. I’m not stupid.”

“And she agreed to it?”

“Yeah. I told you she sounded sincere.”

I tried to suppress my smile. Rashad looked like he was warming up to the idea, but I still felt like I had to proceed with caution. Clearly there were “special issues” with my sister that we had to consider, number one being her past history with Rashad—and his belief that she might still want him. “We even talked about you and her.”

“What’d she say?”

“She told me she was in love with Tony and that you were like her brother. Always looking out for her best interests. She even said she was happy for us.”

“And you believe her?”

“Yeah, I do.” I wanted so badly for things to work out. Every cell in my body wanted to scream out to Rashad, “Just say yes!” But I had to understand where he was coming from too.

“Babe, I know this isn’t going to be easy, but what other option do we have? I’m so scared that if we can’t have a baby, we’re not gonna make it,” I admitted with a shaky voice. “I know Isis has her problems, but I believe she’ll have the baby for us if we give her the money.”

He pulled me close to him, and I held on tight, releasing my pent-up tears. When my crying subsided, he took a step back and said, “We might want to get her a place as far away as we can once the baby is born. She’s always talking about L.A.”

“She is, isn’t she?” We were both grinning now.

“It could work,” Rashad said, and I felt the tension leave my body. “But I have a question for you,” he said. “Can you handle your sister being pregnant by me?”

I had already thought about this during the hours I waited for him to come home. “As long as she signs those papers saying she’s having
my
baby, and I know you love me, I’ll do what I have to do.”

He reached out and pulled me close again. “I love you. And I know the sacrifice you’re making for me.”

“I love you too. And I’d make any sacrifice for you.” He pulled me into the shower, kissing me. We might not be able to make a baby together, but that night, we did what we did best and made sweet, passionate love.

I sat at the bar of the NCO Club at Fort Lee Military Base down in Hopewell, nursing a goblet of cognac. Soldiers had always been a hard bunch to figure out, so I mainly watched as Loraine danced the night away with not one or two, but three brothers at the same time. Don’t ask me what had gotten into Ms. Conservative, but there she was, strutting her stuff on the dance floor, where she’d been since the moment we set foot in the place. I couldn’t put my finger on it, and she wouldn’t admit it, but there was no doubt in my mind that something had changed her in the last month or so.

Of course, it was possible that the pressure of running for president of her sorority was getting to her, and she was just trying to unwind. Whatever it was, she sure was letting them brothers get all up close and personal. One brother was feeling all over her ass and titties like he planned on taking her home. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he had a good chance, too, but unlike me, Loraine knew where to draw the line.

When the song ended, Loraine headed toward me, followed by two of her three dance partners. One in particular, the one who was all over her, looked like he was more my type than hers, not because he was gay, but because he reeked of being married. The guy had a shadow on his left ring finger, a telltale sign of a wedding band that had been recently removed. He was wearing a suit that most men would wear to work. Oh, he dressed it up with a bright yellow shirt, and he looked decent, but a clothes whore like me could spot that he really wasn’t prepared for the club scene. What really gave it away was the wingtipped
shoes. No single man would ever show up at a club with those on his feet.

My guess was that he’d left the little lady home with the kids to go out with his buddies, probably for the first time in months. He wasn’t necessarily looking to get laid, but if it happened, he wouldn’t turn it down, as long as he could get his ass home at a reasonable hour. I was going to pull Loraine’s coat on him, but why spoil her fun? The chances of her and this guy hooking up were slim to none, especially since she’d driven us to the club and I needed a ride home.

“Hey, Jerome.” Loraine reached over to the bar to retrieve her drink, still moving her head to the rhythm of the music. “Phew! Now, that was fun. I think I could dance all night.”

I tapped her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss. Where is Loraine, and why have you stolen her body?” We both laughed.

“What, a girl can’t have a little fun?” She fanned herself with her hand as she sipped her drink.

I leaned in and whispered, “From the looks of things, you trying to have twice as much fun as everyone else.” I motioned in the direction of her two handsome dance partners.

“Now, Jerome, as long as you’ve known me, have I ever been selfish?” She gestured to the men. “Fellas, come here.”

“Jerome, this is Terrance.” She slid her arm around the waist of the man I suspected was married. “Terrance, this is my best friend, Jerome.”

He offered me his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He had a handsome ruggedness to him. If Loraine didn’t know what to do with him, she could send him over my way any time she liked.

“And this handsome young man right here is Thomas.”

I took his hand, and he gave me a nice firm handshake. Thomas was kinda young, early thirties at best. He was a big guy, with well-maintained dreads, which were not something I usually found attractive, but there was something about him I liked.

“Um, Jerome, Thomas was admiring your suit and tie.”

“Yeah, I like your style. It’s hard to find suits for guys our size,” Thomas complimented.

I was just about to tell him where I get my suits when Loraine cut in. “Maybe you two should sit down and talk so you can tell him where you got them. I’m sure you guys have a lot in common.” Loraine winked at me twice, our signal for
I think he’s in denial
.

“Ohhh, okay, that’s a good idea. Grab a seat, Thomas. Let me buy you a drink.”