Cookie Explosion

This is an exerpt from one of my three works in progress (#WIP) about a female bond enforcer by the name of Nicole Slawyer ("Cole Slaw" for short).  Let me know what you think of this story.

I want kids but I'm kinda afraid that I'll break them. Not that I'm a child abuser or anything, it's just that kids always seem to get sick in my presence. I think it's me because when I'm around them and their parents, they are perfectly healthy. As soon as I get them home alone with me, their nose starts running; they get a stomachache and/or throw up all over the place.

This is so not an exaggeration. My godson, lil Ron, was the first kid I babysat when he was about 5 years old. His parents wanted some alone time. Baby Tina was at Ronald's parents’ house, and I volunteered to watch Ron since he was bigger. They said it would be an all-nighter and they asked if I minded.

Joe was out of town visiting some of his relatives that I didn’t like, so I welcomed the company. But now that I look back, he may have been getting down and dirty with his current boo, Paul, someplace.  That's another story for another day.

"Of course I don't mind. Go on, have a good time. But don't make another one of these just yet okay." I said. Meosha and Ronald just laughed.

My feathered friend,Tipsy and I were able to keep Ron's attention for about ten minutes before he burst into tears, begging for his mama. I tried to explain to him that he would be spending a little time with Auntie Cole and that he would see mama and daddy as soon as they came back to get him. His bottom lip shivered but he stopped crying.

"You wanna help me make some cookies?" I asked him.

"Yaaayyy cookies!"

So I pulled out the bucket of cookie dough that I bought from some lady Pop-Pop knows. I usually don't buy stuff like that from any old body, but this was a fund raising type thing, probably the church building fund or something like that.

Anyway, I read the directions on the side of the bucket that explained how much dough you should scoop on the cookie sheet to make a regular sized cookie. If I followed the instructions I would be eating about 10 of those tiny cookies, so I decided to make bigger cookies. So instead of a dozen cookies, I made 4 big ones. Ron's eyes were big as let him look at the cookies before sliding them into the oven. Apparently, Chef Meosha didn't make cookies that big.

"Relax, kid. I promise this way is much better."

Ron smiled and hugged my leg, and went in search of toys to play with until the cookies got done. I set the timer on the oven just in case I forgot that I was cooking, but the aroma coming from the oven filled the whole duplex. Even my neighbors from next door knocked on the door asking what I was cooking.

"We smelled chocolate and looked outside and didn't see either one of your friends’ cars in the drive way so we were making sure everything was okay."

It was always a major even when I turned on a stove. I guess my neighbors thought that someone in the family had died and I was making a dish for the repast. Meosha and my boo, Marcus, had me spoiled.

"Everything's fine. Just babysitting."

That brought and even bigger look of concern. They had never seen me with a kid and probably didn't think I could handle it. I assured them that everything was under control and they told me to knock on the door if I needed anything.

Lil Ron and I sat at the kitchen table staring at the oven with our heads on our propped up hands. As soon as the timer went off we jumped up. I grabbed the oven-mitts and pulled out the mega-large chocolate cookies.

"I'll give you one now and if you eat that I'll give you the other one," I said to Ron.

I placed both of my cookies on my plate. Then I went to fridge, grabbed the half gallon of milk, and poured both of us a glass full. Lil Ron gobbled his cookie down quickly and was ready for the other before I was halfway through with my first one. I put the other one on his plate and he gobbled it down too. He drank all of his milk and sat there looking as if he wanted to attack me for mine. I gave him half of my second one. He sat back rubbing his stomach looking really satisfied.

"You wanna watch cartoons?" I asked him. He nodded his head vigorously. I had him settled on the couch watching a SpongeBob DVD that was in his bag.

I was looking at my empty plate wanting to make more cookies but not wanting to share them with Lil Ron. About 30 minutes passed and then I heard retching coming from the living room. It was Lil Ron hacking and then hurling bits of chocolate chip cookie and milk all over the couch.

Tipsy was squawking, "He's blowing up. He's blowing up."

And Ron did indeed look like he was blowing up all over the place. It took me a minute to jump into action and run to the closet and retrieve the mop bucket. Of course by the time I placed it in front of him, only yellow stomach acid was coming out.

After it looked like Ron was finished, I helped him to the bathroom and took off the soiled clothes. The poor kid had messed his pants as well, which brought tears to my eyes.

"Its okay, Auntie Cole. They were good going down." Then he patted my face. I could feel the cookie gook residue that his little hands left on my cheek and wanted to hurl myself.

While Lil Ron was in the bath tub, I dismantled the couch cushions and put everything that could be washed in the machine. I grabbed Pine-Sol and scrubbed down the foam cushions and leaned them up against the wall and turned on an oscillating fan that blew air on both of them simultaneously.

When I went back to check on Lil Ron, he looked as if he was nodding off as he sat in the murky water. I called his name and he woke up. I already felt bad about giving him all of those cookies; I was not about to let him drown in the tub. I helped Lil Ron dry off and put on pajamas. I laid him in the daybed in my office and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I never told Meosha and Ronald about Lil Ron getting sick. Apparently he hadn’t either because he and Tina spent the night with me a few more times over the years until they reached their teens. I guess they stopped wanting to eat junk food until they threw up. Which was great for me, I had to buy a new couch because the old one had faded from all of the washing.

Kids were too much work.  Believe it or not, chasing criminals was so much easier.

Confrontation

This is another installment to "Her Leftovers", after the fight between Quintina and Tamesha. 

Quintina was sitting on the couch in the living room when Cortez made it home.  He had a few bags of food and a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he struggled not to drop before heading to the kitchen.  It was dark in the room so Cortez was startled when Quintina called out to him.

"Hey baby," Cortez said, turning to her.  Quintina slapped Cortez across his eyes hard enough to blind him.  He dropped everything to the floor and covered his face, "What the f...?"

"Since you love her so much, pack your shit and go over there," Quintina sneered.

"Quintina, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Tamesha.  Yeah, your girlfriend sent me a birthday present.  Let me show you."  Cortez followed her to their bedroom.

Quintina grabbed the remote and pressed play.  She turned the volume up.  Cortez rubbed his eyes and squinted at the tv.  His bloodshot eyes got big as goose eggs and then filled with tears.  "Baby..."

"I don't want to hear it.  Get out!"

"But this is my place."

Quintina pulled her gun from the shoe box, pointed it at Cortez and cocked it.  "You've got 15 minutes."  He hurriedly gathered as much as he could stuff in a gym bag and left.

After Cortez was gone, Quintina collapsed to the floor and began to sob.  She had no idea what she would do next.  The obvious choice was divorce but she wasn't sure if she really wanted to be completely through with Cortez yet.  She would give it some thought. 

Quintina moped around for about an hour then cleaned up all of the items that Cortez had dropped. Everything that was salvageable was stored away and the broken items were thrashed.  The flowers were fine but she shoved them into the garbage disposal.  She took a shower, got dressed in a flattering red dress and tried to camoflaug the bruises on her face.  Satisfied with her results, she called SaLynne and asked her if she wanted to go out.

"Sure, where do you want to go?"

"Some place where there are some fine men with real jobs."

"Uh oh. Sounds like Cortez is going to have some competition."

Quintina laughed out loud.  "Girl, you have no idea.  Come get me, I may not be able to drive home later."

"Quin, what's up with you?" SaLynne sounded puzzled.

"I'll tell you when you get here."

She Ain't Worth It ~ Part 2

Here's part two of this story.  Just like last week, this story has a lot of profanity in it. So if you're sensitive about that you may want to steer clear, or read another post (smile).  All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Once Quintina had put on her jeans and t-shirt, she shoved the shoe box under her arm, grabbed her purse in one hand and her keys in the other. She ran down the stairs and out the door. Quin, where are you going? She thought. You know you are not supposed to be drinking and driving. Fuck that, this is not something that I’m gonna let slide.


Quintina got off I240 at the Hollywood exit and went north. When she reached Dalana’s house on Brookmeade, she started beating on the door like she was the police.

“Hold on, goddammit,” Dalana yelled. When she opened the door and saw that it was Quintina, she just stepped back and let her in. “Quin, why are you looking all torn up on your birthday?”

“I’m on a rampage. Call that Tamesha bitch. I got a few choice words that I want to say to her,” Quintina said throwing her purse and keys on the couch. She had left her gun in the car under the passenger seat.

“What happened? She called the house or something?”

“Naw that bitch was in my house, in my bed, fucking my husband.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“The raunchy bitch sent me a tape of them. You remember when I told you that we had set the camcorder set up in the bedroom.” Quintina had started pacing back and forth across the room. Then she went into the kitchen and got one of Dalana’s coolers out of the refrigerator.

“Yeah, I remember. Shit, those are some bold muthafuckas. See, this is your own damn fault. If you hadn’t have been letting Tez get away with all that shit, this would have never happened. They think that you’ll never do anything.”

“I don’t think Cortez knew she was taping it. It looked like he was too torn up to even pay attention to anything she was doing besides freaking on him.”

“Don’t start making excuses for that niggah. That’s what you always do. Whether he knew she was taping it or not, he still fucked her.”

“I know. Get that bitch on the phone.”

“She’s at Schrhonda’s place right now,” Dalana said picking up the phone. “I need to pop some popcorn, this is gonna be better than the Tyson vs. Holyfield fight.”

Quintina was standing in the doorway when Schrhonda and Tamesha arrived. Tamesha automatically got all up in Quintina’s face. She started bragging about how she had Quintina’s man wrapped around her little finger and how she can take Cortez from Quintina whenever she got ready. Quintina tried her best to keep her composure but she couldn’t maintain. She finally got fed up with all the bullshit that Tamesha was shooting off about and suddenly grabbed a handful of Tamesha’s hair and punched her in the face. Then she pushed her out the door and let her fall down the steps onto the concrete carport.

After Tamesha had hit the ground, Quintina noticed that she had a big plug of her hair in her hand. She looked at Tamesha’s head and immediately noticed the patch where the hair had come from. Quintina almost started laughing before Tamesha stumbled to her feet, holding her head and cursing.

“Bitch, you got me fucked up.” Then she punched Quintina in the mid-section, making her doubled over in pain. Tamesha began to rant and rave again while Quintina was trying to recover. She had all sorts of murderous thoughts going through her mind but couldn’t figure out how she could carry them out without it resulting in a 25 to life prison sentence.

“Bitch, Cortez is my man first, hoe. If it wasn’t for your square ass, I would be Mrs. Cortez Robinson. But that’s alright though. I can still get the dick whenever I want it. You think that was the first time? Oh no, honey. We have been fucking since day one. He came over my house the first night y’all met at that basketball game. Yeah, he had you thinking there wasn’t anything between us. That’s just how we do it. Even though he acts hard he can’t live without this pussy. Now, what do you have to say about that?”

Quintina finally straightened up and looked Tamesha dead in the eyes. Tears partially impaired Quintina’s vision but she wiped them away. Quintina felt as if she were moving in slow motion. It was sort of like her body was moving by itself because it surprised even her when she rushed into Tamesha like a bull. When Tamesha hit the ground with a loud thump, she moaned in agony. Then Quintina straddled her and began to repeatedly pound her fists into Tamesha’s face.

She talked to her in a surprisingly calm voice, almost scary. “You know what, hoe? You can have that hoe-ish ass niggahs. I don’t need all this drama. I hope all the dick you’ve been getting over the years has been worth this ass whipping. Both of you selfish motherfuckers deserve each other.”

Quintina pounded until her arms got tired and her fists began to throb. Once on her feet, she coughed up a big blob of phlegm and spit it in Tamesha’s face. “I hope you two have a wonderful and fulfilling life together.” Then she began walking slowly towards her car. Before Quintina could reach her car door—SMACK, she arched her back in pain and turned around quickly. She saw that Dalana was holding Tamesha who had a bat in her hand. Tamesha didn’t say a word; she just stared at Quintina through her swollen eyelids.

Quintina remembered seeing the bat propped against the wall under the carport when she and Tamesha had come out of the house but was too distracted to worry about where it came from. She knew it hadn’t been there when she first arrived at Dalana’s house. Or was it? She was too tired to figure it out.

“Bitch, I ought to shoot your ugly ass right now but I ain’t trying to be going to jail for no piece of shit like you,” Quintina said opening her car door and sliding in.

She Ain't Worth It ~ Part 1

I usually don’t write in third person but I decided to switch it up a little bit. I’m revisiting a scene in “Her Leftovers” where Tamesha decides to let her presence be known. WARNING: There is quite a bit of swearing in this story.

~ Let me know what you think. All feedback is welcome. ~


“Quintina, you didn’t have to come to work on your birthday. I told you that you could take off since you did such a good presentation at the conference in Atlanta,” Craig said walking into Quintina’s office with a bouquet of roses and a bag with Happy Birthday printed on it.

“I just wanted to look over these reports before I turned them in. I’ll be leaving after lunch.” Quintina’s attention was focused on the computer so she didn’t see what Craig was carrying until she looked up. “What’s that you got there?”

“Oh, the guy just dropped this off so I decided that I would bring it in for you. Cortez is so romantic, I wanna grow up and be just like him,” Craig said wiping away imaginary tears.

“Thanks Craig, with your silly self.”

“No problem Mrs. Robinson,” he said as he walked out of her office and closed the door behind him.

Quintina played it cool until her boss walked out then she pulled the light blue bag with white letters on it to her and pulled out the white and blue tissue paper. Cortez must have gotten somebody to help him with this because he’s never took the time to find tissue to match the gift bag, she thought. When she had finally gotten all of the tissue unraveled, she found a video tape. I wonder what’s on it. Dalana did say that she told Cortez that I wanted him to learn how to strip for me; maybe that’s what it is.

When Quintina got home she ran straight to her bedroom so she could look at her present. She put the tape in the VCR and walked over to the nightstand and pushed play on the remote. At first she just saw Cortez laying on the bed smoking. That ain’t no cigarette, that’s a blunt, I’m gonna kick his ass. Then she saw a dark skinned woman get in the bed with him. What the fuck? They began kissing and touching each other. He turned the blunt around and put the lit end in his mouth and put his mouth to her nose and blew the smoke in. I can’t believe this shit. I need a drink.

Quintina paused the foolery and went downstairs to the kitchen and pulled Cortez’s bottle of vodka out of the freezer. She got a Sprite out of the refrigerator and poured some of it into a plastic blue cup. She had intended on making her drink half liquor half soda but she decided to grab another cup and fill it to the rim with vodka. She took a swallow of her drink. It burned going down but it wasn’t nowhere near as uncomfortable as it would have been under normal circumstances. She was already on fire.

When Quintina got back up to her room and restarted the tape, the first thing she saw was the woman get up and go over to her dresser and pick up the bottle of Motion Lotion that Quintina and Cortez used quite frequently. Quintina finally got a good look at the skeezer and realized that it was none other than, Tamesha. That bitch! Tamesha got back into bed with Cortez and opened the bottle pouring some of the strawberry flavored lotion on her hand and rubbing it on his penis. Then Tamesha lowered her head and filled her mouth. I can’t believe they’re doing this in my house, in my bed. I want to kill them so bad, but neither one of them are worth going to jail over.

Quintina had finished her drink when she noticed that there was music playing in the background on the tape. Then, as if right on cue, Tamesha pulled away from Cortez’s groin and walked over to the radio. She turned up the volume a few notches, looked at the camera, then sauntered over and turned her ass to the camera. No that bitch didn’t just jiggle her flabby ass butt cheeks in my face. She went over and climbed on top of Cortez, facing the camera so Quintina could see the expression on her face. …Still in love with… Quintina threw her cup toward the TV, barely missing the screen.

“Our fucking wedding song! Aw, it’s on now,” Quintina yelled out loud. She reached under the bed and pulled out the shoe box that she kept her loaded .45 millimeter in and put it on the bed so she would remember to take it with her. But first she had to change into her beat down clothes.

Once Was Blind ~ Part 2

“This is Roshelle’s first night out and you know she wants to spend some time with me,” Darnell said. He had called me at work so I couldn’t curse him out like I wanted to.

“Do you want to come over and hang out with us?” he asked.

I declined. I knew she wanted to have sex with him and I wasn’t about to sit there and watch them, and I definitely wasn’t going to participate in any freaky stuff.

My dad helped us move that next day. Once we got most of the furniture into the house, we all just sat around trying to catch our breath. I went in what was to be Darnell’s room, to think about what I had gotten myself into when Daddy walked in.

“Hey, Baby?” he asked.

“What’s up?”

“You know you can always come home when you want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah, everything’s all right though.” I wasn’t’ ready to let my dad know that I had royally screwed up, but I think he could read my expression anyway.

“Well, you have a key, so you can come get some air whenever you need to,” he said as he hugged me.

Roshelle spent the night every Monday and Tuesday. Darnell would ask me to help her dry him off when he got out of the shower. I always refused. I already had to deal with the fact that my man was sleeping with another woman, in the very next room; there was no way I was going to act like I was happy about it. I remember a couple of conversations Darnell and I had about his dream of marrying an older woman who was an ex-hooker. So, whenever I looked at Roshelle with spandex clung to her heavy-set body, I wondered why I was even there. I often took Darnell outside to talk about some of the things that made me uncomfortable. Like the love letters she left around the house. Especially one that went into graphic detail about how much she enjoyed performing oral sex on him (I guess that’s why she didn’t bother to wear her false teeth that much).

“Like it, like it, or dislike it. You can roll whenever you get ready,” he would say in response to my complaints. It was as if he didn’t even care if I was happy or not. It didn’t matter that he was only working part-time for a guy who threatened to fire him every week, when I’d had two steady jobs for several years and I paid the majority of the bills. It didn’t matter that his family and friends loved me, but couldn’t stand Roshelle. It didn’t matter that I had stuck by him for his last three years in prison, and all she could do was write him letters for a year and a half. None of that mattered. He felt that he had tried to make other people happy for most of his life. I realized that I had been doing the same thing myself and I was sick of it. So one night, when he had returned from Roshelle’s house, I was in my room packing. When he walked into my bedroom, I snatched my car keys from him and put them in my pocket.

“Don’t you ever snatch anything from me,” he growled. He raised his hand as if to strike me, but I hit him first. He pushed me down on the floor. I got back up and started taking my boxes to the car.

“So, you’re just going to change horses in the middle of the race?” he asked, walking behind me.

“I don’t feel like hearing that pimp shit tonight. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t tell me what you feel and don’t feel. I tell you what you CAN feel and CANNOT feel.”

I wanted to scream but I didn’t want to wake up his children. I wanted to tell him that I had wasted my time and money on him and that I hated him for putting me through all of that nonsense. It felt like I was going to have a heart attack and a stroke trying to hold in all of my emotions, but I made it through.

I know it sounds foolish, but I still miss him sometimes, but not enough to go back. Darnell and Roshelle made me mad enough to kill, but I’m not going to give up on finding a good guy. I just have to keep my eyes open.

Once Was Blind ~ Part 1

A year ago I was trying to adjust to Darnell being on the town instead of living in the prison he was in when I met him. You know how you look back and try to focus on what was good about a relationship? Well, I’m sorry to have to admit, I felt better when he was locked up than I did during the three months we lived together. The harder I tried to overlook the things he did, the more my patience wore thin.

My name is Yolanda Reynolds. I thought that I would be married by the time I turned thirty, but Darnell Oliver not only wanted to be my everything, but everything to every woman he met who had a little change in her pocket and who was easily persuaded. Persuaded to do what? Well, just about anything under the sun.

He wanted his women doing everything, from stealing and selling clothes and jewelry to being a part of the oldest profession. Yeah, you know what I mean, prostitution. My former fiancé was a pimp and proud of it. I admit that I tried things his way for a while, but I guess I didn’t have much street value, so he didn’t try to make me quit my day job to pursue full fledge tricking. I thanked my Heavenly Father for making me fat, and for giving me the strength to leave him before Darnell had starved me to death and forced me to be a full-time whore, whether I liked it or not.

Darnell’s mother, Darlene, and I worked together. She and I had been pretty good friends when she introduced me to her son. The first time I talked to him on the phone, Darlene and Darnell had called me on 3-way. Darnell and I exchanged addresses and promised to write each other at least once every couple of weeks.

His first letter was accompanied by a package the size of a toothpaste box. I, being the type of person who loved receiving gifts, unwrapped the light blue package. When I opened what was indeed a toothpaste box, I found a dozen fake miniature roses of assorted colors. Then I opened the letter which said that the roses were better than real ones because they would last forever. I thought that was sweet gesture. As I held the letter, it dawned on me: I had agreed to date a convicted felon on his seventh year of a ten year bid.

After about two weeks of talking on the phone and exchanging letters, I was ready to meet Darnell face to face. I knew who Darnell was soon as he walked into the visitation room. I recognized him from the pictures of him around Darlene’s house. The guy who reached to hug his mother was a lot thinner than I expected. I had figured all guys gained weight when they went to the pen from lifting weights all day. He had a big gold-tooth smile on his face when he looked at me. As Darnell wrapped his small, but muscular, arms around me, I resisted the urge to touch his shoulder length jheri curl. At that point, I hadn’t known what he had done to get himself locked up, but when I looked at the one inch, perfectly manicured nails and snakeskin cowboy boots, pimping came to mind.

During the first two years of our relationship, I visited Darnell every week, twice a week during the holidays. If my car needed servicing and I couldn’t go see him, he told his mother or brother to bring me.

To make up for the fact that he couldn’t see me on an everyday basis, he was the first man to remember my birthday every year. I sent him money and accepted his calls three times a day. He had friends that would give me money for the phone bill when I needed help. He sent me cards and little notes every Valentine’s and Christmas. He even sent me a mother’s day card and signed it, “My children’s mother to be.” I got to know his entire family including three of his children and their mother. They all made me feel like part of the family. No matter how often my friends looked at me and told me that I should have known better than to get mixed up with a convict, I didn’t listen. I didn’t even tell my dad that Darnell was locked up, because he would have been the very worst critic of all; not just because I was his daughter and he wanted the best for me, but because he had done a decade in prison himself. He knew that everybody didn’t learn from their mistakes.

There were a few times when I said to myself, “This is stupid,” and I wouldn’t go see Darnell or put money on his book. When he would call, I would instruct my roommate, Lolita, to tell him I wasn’t there. I sometimes went out with other guys to try to forget about Darnell, but then he would call on one of his friends 3-way and tell me how much he missed me and that he would be there when I got through running around with all those “nothing –ass niggahs”.

During one of those breakups, Darnell met Roshelle Price through one of the other inmates. Roshelle was ten years older than Darnell, which made her fifteen years older than I. She made her money as a hooker and a clothes booster. Why couldn’t I have left him alone then? Because she ended up going to a federal prison and I didn’t considered her empty promises as a threat to the plans Darnell and I had made together. I didn’t take me long to realize how persistent she was.

After my roommate moved out and I was struggling to pay bills on my own, Darnell convinced me to move in with his mother and we would get our own place when he got out.

Darnell was out a whole week before I knew it, and the $900 he asked me to send to him, before his release had already been blown. His second night home, he screwed some girl in my bed while I was at work. I knew this because I saw an open condom package under my pillow. I should have packed my bags then, but I just told him when we moved out of his mom’s house, that I wanted my own room. We stayed with Darlene a month before we found a house.

An Understanding

“Where the hell is Phillip’s medicine? It wasn’t in his bag,” Jarvis yelled into the phone.

I was rocking the baby, trying to soothe him, but I knew that his earache was getting worse.

“This is the second time that you’ve forgotten it. Do I have to come to your house and pack his bag my damn self from now on?”

That’s what you get for having a baby by a young, dumb, white girl, I wanted to say but I didn’t. I was his wife and wives were supposed to be supportive, no matter nuts their husbands were. The fact that she was white really wasn’t a big deal to me because dumb came in all colors.

“Now when I sue you for full custody you’re gonna say that I’m being low down. Whatever. Gennifer, just drop his ear medicine off at mom’s house and I’ll go get it.”

I decided to take Phillip into the kitchen to find him a snack to get his mind off of his pain. Before we reached the doorway, Jarvis screamed, “I bet’ not give you my address, you think I want you to bring your drama to my doorstep?”

I sure the hell didn’t. I almost got locked up fooling around with that broad. I told her I was there for him before she got there and that I’ll be there when she was gone, so she got hot. Hell, it was the truth. Jarvis and I had known each other since ninth grade. We weren’t high school sweethearts or anything but we were good friends. If we had not lost contact a little after graduation, she would have never gotten into the picture.

When he first told me about Gennifer, I figured they would get married but she turned out to be too crazy for him to handle, so he had to cut her loose. Unfortunately, she was pregnant when he’d called it quits. I told him to try to make it work with her but he didn’t want to, saying that he should have been with me in the first place. So there I was, Mrs. Jarvis Anderson, aka Boo Boo the Fool, trying to make the best of a very awkward situation.

“Sonia, come ride with me,” Jarvis said walking into the kitchen where I stood. “I might kill that girl if I go alone.”

“Okay. I wish you wouldn’t let her upset you so much,” I said handing the baby to him. I went to the living room closet to get our jackets. I put on mine and took Phillip from Jarvis, giving him his jacket as well. Jarvis watched me as I got Phillip ready.

“I think you take better care of my son than his mama,” he said as we got into the car.

“I love this handsome little guy. I mean he looks just like you, except he’s more light skinned, has nicer hair and prettier eyes.”

“Are you trying to put the moves on my boy?” I just giggled and hugged Phillip to me. I was glad Jarvis was back to his old self again. He and I hardly ever argued, so it was unusual for me to see his bottom lip poked out.

It was too bad that our good moods didn’t last long. Gennifer’s car was still in Mrs. Phyllis’s driveway when we pulled in front of the house. It looked as if Gennifer was getting ready to back out, but I’m sure she made it her business to be there when Jarvis got there on purpose, hoping to get a few moments with him, without me around. Oops, her bad.

Jarvis blew the horn to get her attention before he got out the car. As he walked over to her car, I could tell that old girl was getting ready to chew Jarvis out. I hoped he would keep his composure.

“What do you want? And why doesn’t your wife have my baby in the child seat? Is she trying to kill him or what?” she yelled loud enough for me to have heard her in our backyard six blocks away.

When Jarvis looked back to see if I heard her, he saw me getting out of the passenger seat, so I could put Phillip in the back. As soon as I sat him down, he began to whine. “He needs his medicine,” I yelled to them.

“Bring me my baby, he just misses his mommy,” Gennifer said impatiently.

I picked Phillip up and again and walked over to Gennifer as she got out of her car. When I put the baby in her arms, he began to cry louder. By the time Mrs. Phyllis had let me in the house, the baby was on the verge of bursting a blood vessel and his face was almost as red as a tomato.

“What’s wrong with that child? He looks like he’s fighting for his life. Look how he’s clawing at that gal’s face.” I picked up the medicine bottle from the coffee table and went to stand behind Mrs. Phyllis as she stood at the door looking out. We both giggled when Gennifer thrust Phillip into Jarvis’s arms.

“What have you been doing to him?” she yelled nearly in tears herself.

“We’ve been taking care of him and loving him, the way you should be doing.”

Phillip calmed down and looked over his little shoulder at his mother. His small hand went up to his earlobe and began twisting and turning it. I took that as my cue to return outside and rescue both of my men from that woman, before things got any worse.

“Can you have kids?” Gennifer burst out, as I approached them.

“Why do you ask?” I responded, as I put the drops in the baby’s ears.

“I was just wondering if you were going to have any children of your own or if you were just going steal my son away from me.”

I would be a much better mother than you, I wanted to say, but one look at the expression on Jarvis’s face said not to even go there. I took Phillip to the car and fastened him in the car seat. I handed him his sippy cup from his bag. He looked out of the window and watched his parents as he drank his juice. It was a good thing he wasn’t old enough to feel embarrassed by his mother. I envied his innocence.

It was Phillip’s third birthday. Mrs. Phyllis and I were out in her backyard putting balloons and streamers on the wooden privacy fence. We were waiting for Gennifer to bring Phillip over so we would have him ready before his little daycare friends arrived. She was late, as usual. Jarvis had not made it either, but he had called to say he would have to work a little later.

The party was well underway, when I received a phone call that I felt would send me to my maker. The police told me that Jarvis had been dropping off one of his coworkers, when a motorcycle got into his lane, coming down the wrong side of the street. Jarvis dodged the guy but ran right into a large tree that pretty much totaled his truck. My sweetie was unconscious.

“Phyllis,” I screamed, trying to keep my composure, but failing miserably.

“What is it, baby?” I just handed her the phone.

Once I had gotten myself together and sent everyone home, Gennifer and I got into the car. We rode in silence except for her crying. Mrs. Phyllis stayed at the house with Phillip. I drove because I was the more coherent one. I felt as if I had drunk a bottle of Novocain that made my whole body numb. I wanted to smack Gennifer, and put her out of the car, for all of her melodramatics, but I controlled the urge. I did feel sorry for her because she was alone, except for Phillip. I didn’t know much about her, but I did know that her attitude had a lot to do with her relationship status.

The doctor didn’t want me to see Jarvis at first but when I got through cutting up sideways, they let me in. They wouldn’t let Gennifer come. I don’t think she would have been able to see him like that anyway. I nearly stopped breathing when I laid eye on him. One of his legs was up in a sling and his handsome brown face was covered with cuts and bruises. I dropped to my knees, and prayed until the nurse came to tell me it was time to go.

When I explained Jarvis’s condition to Gennifer she cried twice as much as she had earlier. “What are Phillip and I going to do if something happens to Jarvis? I can’t take care of him by myself. I know I give him a hard time about everything, but I still care about him.”

“Gennifer,” I said putting my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me. “No matter what happens, and Lord knows I hope he’ll be all right, but if something does happen to Jarvis, I’ll always be there for you and Phillip.”

“But…”

“No buts. When I married Jarvis, you and that little boy became my family too. I could never turn my back on you, no matter how crazy your ass is.” That girl was speechless for the first time since I’d known her and it made me smile through the tears in my eyes. We sat there and held each other for a long time. I felt all of the animosity that had been between us melting away.

Jarvis came out of his coma after a week and a half. When Gennifer and I went to pick him up, he did a double take. “What’s the business? Y’all must have gone crazy while I was half dead.”

“No, we just came to an understanding,” I said.

“What kind of understanding?” Jarvis asked suspiciously.

“That if you died, we would move in together.”

“What the …?”

“Just kidding, baby, calm down,” I said kissing his face.

“Sonia and I called a truce. I’ll try not to give her a hard time and she will try not to kick my butt if I slip up,” Gennifer said.

“It’s about time. Does that truce extend to me too? I wanted to bust your head a couple of times myself.”

“Damn, y’all violent,” Gennifer laughed. “Yes, I promise not to get you riled up either.”

Who knew that Gennifer and I would have become friends? She had hated me since day one. I really thought she would revert back to her old ways after a while, but she didn’t. I guess she finally understood that there was no reason for us to have any animosity against each other because Phillip was the most important person in all of our lives and that it was important for us to get along, for his sake.

With her attitude under control, maybe could find her a good dude to keep her occupied.

No Fool Like an Old Fool ~ Part 2

Seeing the assault, a man in another unit went to the conference room, where the managers were having a meeting. He told them what had happened and Mrs. Dandridge followed him back to the area. It took her and five other people to pull Precious, kicking and cursing, away from Brian’s balled up body. Tears covered her face and blood ran from the broken skin on her fists. She continued to yell obscenities as they led her to Mr. Bentley’s office.

The company nurse came to get Brian. Some managers helped him into the wheelchair she had brought. As the nurse pushed Brian to her station, anyone who hadn’t witnessed the fight could clearly see the deep fingernail scratches covering his neck and face. They snickered and pointed at the patches missing from his already thinning gray hair.

After being released from the hospital, Brian was told to stay home from work for at least a month. Brian had never been off of work for such a length of time but knew he needed to be. Crazy woman. If I were twenty years younger, I would’ve shown that little bitch a thing or two.

His second morning home, Brian lay in his bed trying to ignore the pain in his right leg. Then the phone rang.

“Hey, should I make the funeral arrangements now or are you going to stick around and wreak havoc for a few more years?” the woman on the other end asked.

“Sarah?” Brian asked, “I can’t believe you called me. How long has it been now…twelve years?”

“Thirteen. So how did you manage to get your ass kicked by a twenty-five year old?”

“Who told you?”

“You know my cousin, Laura, still works there. She saw the nurse pushing you to her off office.”

“Nosey wench,” Brian said.

“I’m going to ignore that because I know you don’t know any better. I took off of work for a while, told them that my deadbeat husband needed me. I’ll be there in half an hour. I have to pick up my rental.”

“How did you know I wanted you to come?”

“I doesn’t matter what you want. If I don’t help you, it will be on my conscious for eternity. And I try to think about you as least as possible. See ya in a few,” Sarah said, hanging up not bothering to wait for a response.

Brian and his wife had been separated longer than they had been together. When he had returned home after the army kicked him out, his wife followed suit. Sarah was pregnant at the time, which should have been impossible due to the fact that Brian had been gone for a year. In a way, he had been ecstatic to be rid of her, but every now and then he wished he could have made things better between them.

Brian hadn’t been in a serious relationship since Sarah. He had dated a few women here and there but soon grew tired of them. It was never the same as being with sweet Sarah, so he resolved to stop trying to replace her. He got lonely for a woman at times, but it was nothing a bottle of Jack Daniels and a little Vaseline or baby oil couldn’t cure.

When he built his strength up, Brian crept downstairs to unlock the door so it would be open when Sarah got there. He was sitting in his recliner, in front of the living room television, when his estranged wife arrived, looking even more beautiful than Brian had remembered. Florida had been good to her. Brian tried to suppress his excitement at her being there, but when she began to speak, there was nothing to mask anymore.

“Brian, when are you going to learn that you are the minority at Internal Revenue Service? That place is ninety percent women, seventy percent black women, what were you thinking? Don’t answer that, I forgot that thinking was never your forte.”

“They need to do what the government pays them to do, and that does not include taking up money to give to some snobbish woman who’s not worth the cream she puts in her coffee.”

“You need to do what you are paid to do and that is to do your work and keep your nose and your big mouth out of other people’s business.”

“You sound just like those people. If I’m gonna have to justify my actions throughout this little pity visit of yours, you might as well go home now.”

“Brian, I’m just trying to help you understand that you can’t keep doing people the way you do. What if that young woman had her boyfriend or brother kick your behind instead of doing it herself? You could have been killed instead of just knocked around a little bit.”

“Knocked around? She did try to kill me with those witch boots of hers. You can see the imprints of them up and down my leg and thigh,” Brian whined, pulling up his pant leg.

Sarah just shook her head and walked into the small kitchen. Brian could hear her running water in the sink preparing to clean the dishes he had left on the table since breakfast. Thanks, babe, he thought, smiling to himself.

For the rest of Sarah’s stay, she and Brian got along quite well. He even began to entertain thoughts of reconciling with Sarah. He revealed his thoughts to her the day she was suppose to return to Florida.

“Sarah, how about giving your loving husband another chance.”

“No.”

“Damn, you’re not even going to think about it?”

“Uh Uh.”

“Come on, babe, be reasonable.”

“Brian, remember when I begged you to let me move on base with you instead of staying with my parents?”

“Sarah, I thought that you would be lonely when I wasn’t there with you.”

“That was a crock of shit then and it still is now. I wanted to be with my husband and you left me.”

“Well, that didn’t mean you had to go gallivanting around and getting pregnant by some other guy. A black one at that.”

“I admit my guilt in the way things turned out, but Shelly has been one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Too bad I can’t say the same for you.”

Brian suppressed the urge to say something spiteful. “But I can do better, Sarah, just give me another shot.”

“We’ll see. I’ll call you when I have a chance to think about it. Bye, Brian.”

Brian returned to work the Monday after Sarah left. He hadn’t liked many of the things she said to him but he knew that she had been right. He also knew that he had been mostly to blame for their problems and subsequent separation. That meant he had a lot of changes to make, as far as his attitude, if he really wanted to win Sarah back. Brian also came to the realization that there would always be things he would dislike about the way things were done at his job. He wouldn’t be forced to just sit back and deal with it but he would have to go through the proper channels to get things resolved instead of being rude to his co-workers…in his new unit.

No Fool Like an Old Fool ~ Part I

“Brian, I need to see you in my office for a moment,” Mrs. Dandridge said.

“I’m busy, can’t this wait?” Brian groaned, as he breathed into the receiver. He knew why the head broad in charge had summoned him and was not looking forward to talking to her.

“No, this cannot wait, Mr. Sims. It is imperative that we discuss some things that have come to my attention.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Cocky bitch.

Brian took his time walking to his supervisor’s office. Passing his co-workers, Cherie Rice and Kandy Glass, who were busy discussing how Kandy had straightened out some woman who’d come on to her boyfriend the night before; Brian noticed Kandy’s raised middle finger pointed unmistakably in his direction. He rubbed the spot where his blond hair no longer grew and bald his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.

“Brian, it is my understanding that you seem to be having difficulty getting along with some of your co-workers. Can you enlighten me on the specifics of your conflict?” Mrs. Dandridge asked when Brian sat in the chair in front of her desk.

“What?”

“What seems to be the problem, Brian?”

“The problem is those silly little girls who sit across from me. I can hardly concentrate on my work with them giggling and carrying on all the time.”

“Well, my sources tell me that you are missing from your cubicle for most of the day, deeming it impossible for anyone to disturb you.”

“I have to leave to clear my head. I can’t stand to hear their annoying voices more than thirty minutes at a time.”

“Why haven’t you come to me about this?”

“You’re always in some meeting when they get started. One of them made an obscene gesture to me on my way here.”

“You’re kidding; I want you to write up a statement so that I can give it to Mr. Bentley.”

“You’re not going to do anything about it.”

“Brian, it is my job to see to it that my department is productive and that there is no disruptive behavior among my employees. Now, get that statement back to me as soon as you can and I’ll let you know what comes of it.”

They’re trying to force me into retirement, but I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready, Brian thought, glaring in Kandy and Cherie’s direction. When he reached his cubicle, Brian could feel the cackling hens staring at the back of his head. He heard them suppress a few giggles then return to their never ending babble. “It must be break time,” he said to himself, but loud enough for the young women to hear.

“Who he talking to?” Kandy asked.

“I don’t know. I know his crazy ass ain’t talking to me,” Cherie answered.

“Go to the break room if it’s your break time. If I was the boss, I would show y’all how to run this place,” Brian said.

“Girl, I think brain damaged Brian is talking to us. He ain’t nobody’s boss,” Kandy said, putting her hand on her hip.

“You hear that nut case? You ain’t the boss of nobody ‘round here,” Cherie said.

Brian didn’t respond. He sat in his chair and put on his headphones, turning up his music as high as he could stand in an attempt to tune out the insolent floozies.

Brian seldom ate lunch; instead he combined that time with his two fifteen-minute breaks and takes a vigorous walk around the parking lot. He had been a boxer in the military (before being dishonorably discharged) so sometimes he was seen walking backwards down a hill, jabbing his fists into the air. Brian had heard the remarks about him being a terrorist getting ready to attack, but instead of being offended, he found it rather amusing. It made him feel good that most of his co-workers seemed to fear him.

After Brian finished his workouts, he never saw a need to neither change clothes nor take a shower. He would just walk around for the rest of the day in his smelly, sweat-stained clothes, daring someone to complain about the stench. There were comments made about Brian’s hygiene, but were mostly said behind his back. No one knew that he had heard the remarks when he would walk down the aisle outside of work area and stand by the wall of a few of his co-workers cubicles. This was how he found out that his unit, along with the department manager, Mr. Bentley, was trying to oust him from the area. Brian had been insulted at first, but then realized that it was a blessing in disguise. Instead of being pushed into leaving my job I’ll just be relocated to another unit, away from the dingbats. Good!

Brian came to the realization that he could speed up the process of his move if he took his anti-social antics up a notch. So he began documenting the break and lunch times of his nemeses, Kandy and Cherie, noting the fact that they usually turned thirty-minute lunches into two hour outings. He would then go to Mrs. Dandridge and inform her of the young women’s transgressions. But that stunt had only forced them into using personal leave to make up for the extra-long breaks instead of getting them written up. It had also gotten Brian a tongue-lashing from Mrs. Damnbitch, telling him that he was to mind his own business and that what others did, and for how long they did it, was none of his concern. Of course Brian didn’t heed the warning, and went a step further in his shenanigans.

Intimidation had always been his strong suit, so whenever Kandy and Cherie and some of their associates stood outside one of their cubicles talking, Brian would pull his chair out into the aisle and stare at them. He laughed whenever they laughed. Sometimes he would pretend to read his newspaper and loudly clear his throat every few minutes. The young women would only look at him and roll their eyes.

On one occasion, when they were standing in his path to his cubicle, instead of saying excuse me he just walked up to the back of Kandy and began breathing down her neck.

“Girl, I think Brian wants to touch your ass,” Cherie laughed.

“Honey, he don’t make enough money to look at all this,” Kandy said, striking a bottom- glorifying pose that made Cherie and a few onlookers laugh.

That had not been the response he had expected. That impulsive act could have gotten him written up for sexual harassment. Then, because he had created so much trouble already, he would have gotten himself sent home indefinitely instead of just suspended. So Brian had lain low, expecting the worse, but no grievance was filed. After some deliberation, Brian decided to stick to verbal attacks following that incident; which led to his very memorable confrontation with the unit secretary, Precious Williams.

“Hello, Mr. Sims,” Precious said.

“What do you want?” Brian snapped, not looking up from his paper littered desk.

“Well, you know Boss’s Day is coming up and we, the unit I mean, thought that it would be a good idea to take up some money to buy a gift for Mrs. Dandridge.”

“I wouldn’t give my hard earned money to that woman for all the rice in China. What’s she ever done for me? I haven’t gotten a decent appraisal since I’ve been working under her. I guess if I were black I would get treated better. She seems to cater to you people,” Brian said, turning in his chair and facing Precious. Brian knew that what he had said was rotten. Precious had never done anything to him. She was one of the few young blacks who had amounted to something. She did hang with Kandy and Cherie on occasion, but she mostly struck to herself.

“You people?” Precious said, attempting to control her anger but failing miserably. “Mr. Sims, I don’t know what your problem is, but you are talking to the wrong one. I’m not one of these other people you take such joy in terrorizing.”

“Get out of my face, Precious, I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Brian said, rising from his chair. He pushed Precious to the side as he left his cubicle heading down the aisle. Brian could see her regain her balance out of the corner of his eye. He figured that she would probably get together with her little cronies and badmouth him. What happened instead had never crossed his mind.

Brian hit the floor when Precious charged him. She started hitting him on the back of his head, neck and back. Then she got up and started kicking him in the shin and hip with the pointed toe of her boots. All the exercise Brian had done had never prepared him for that day.

Sisterly Advice

When I arrived home from work the first thing I did was check the mail box. I didn’t really look through the bundle until I got into the house. Scanning through the bills and magazines I noticed that I had received a letter from my older sister, Regina. But according to the salutation it was supposed to go to my brother, Thomas. I had never gotten a letter from Regina. Even after she left Memphis and moved to Somerville, Tennessee. She and I got together every weekend so there was no need for us to be pen pals. Thomas lived in Grand Rapids, Michigan, so I guess I could see her writing a letter to him.

Since it had my address on it, nosey me opened it. When I read the contents, I got hot all over. She was telling Thomas the secret that I had revealed to her the last time we talked.

I had just found out I was pregnant and was considering having an abortion. I wanted to be married when I had a child. I had just graduated from University of Memphis and was starting my career in management at a local mortgage company downtown. There were so many reasons why that was not a good time for me to be a mom.

I wanted Regina to give me some much needed advice not tell all my business to Big Mouth Thomas. Being six years older than I, my sister was naturally someone I looked up to. But after reading the entire letter laced with every detail of our discussion, I was ready to write her out of my will.

“Let me get this chick on the phone and give her a piece of my mind,” I said aloud. Sometimes I talked to myself when I was stressed. Ring. Ring. Darn voice mail. I knew she was at home screening her calls. “Look, Ms. Lady, you need to call me. Trying to put my business all out in the street.” I mean I wanted kids someday just not right then. Leon was the one who was always talking about having kids with me. Talk about pressure.

An abortion was really not something I wanted to do but what else could I do. I mean, adoption was out of the question. Who wanted to go through all of that discomfort and then give your baby away? Made no sense to me. Who would I get to watch my baby when I was at work? Some of these daycare owners are too careless for me. Leaving babies in the van. If they left my baby in a dog gone van some heads would roll. Maybe Run-Her-Mouth-Regina can watch him, she ain’t got no job. Talking about, “Sheila, women have babies every day and still pursue their careers.” I had already made my appointment at the clinic and went through the counseling sessions. I just wanted to get her opinion.

All the next day, I tossed my sisters suggestions back and forth in my mind. Since Regina did medical billing from home, she could stay at my house with the baby, keep him with her during the week and bring him home on weekends, or she could rent her country home out and move back to Memphis.

I could barely pay attention in the training class at work. Faces of little babies spun around in my head. If I had a boy he would inherit my gap-tooth smile and Big Body Benz physique, if it was a girl she would have Leon’s height and nice wavy hair. I had to decide if I really wanted to take on the responsibility of being a mother. Being a realist, I felt that no matter how much Leon proclaimed to want to be a dad and even if he is there in the beginning who’s to say that he wouldn’t walk away some time in the future.

By the time I got home, I still hadn’t heard anything from Regina. I didn’t really feel like talking to her anyway.

Just as I had finally decided what I wanted to eat for dinner, Leon called.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hello. What are you up to?” I asked.

“Thinking about you. Hey, you wanna go get something to eat?”

“Sounds good to me.”

When Leon picked me up he was really quiet in the car which was unusual for him. “What’s wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer right away, I could tell he had something on his mind but wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Aw nothing, just hungry. I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“You not eating lunch is not a good thing. You are the only person that eats six full meals a day and doesn’t gain any weight.”

“That’s ‘cause I work it off,” he said, with a wink.

When we arrived at El Porton’s, it did look rather crowded but fortunately we didn’t have to wait long to be seated. Before we had placed our order, Leon grabbed my hand and kissed it. “I was going to wait until after dinner but this thing is burning a hole in my pocket.”

Before I could ask him what he was talking about he pulled out a small box. Once again, me being a realist or maybe a cynic sometimes I don’t know the difference, did not jump up and down or burst out crying. I had seen too many movies where the woman just knew she was getting an engagement ring but got a charm for a necklace or some big ugly earrings. When I saw what was in the box, I had the type of reaction that almost required me to have on some Depends. But then, of course, tears really did come to my eyes. I nearly knocked the waiter down trying to jump on the other side of that booth.

“Leon, this is so great. I’m not going to be a single mother and …”

“What…”

“We can get a nicer house than both of ours put together and…”

“Baby, what do you mean? Are you pregnant?”

“Yes, almost twelve weeks. I was afraid to tell you. Do you think this is a good thing? I mean you know, I could…” He put his finger over my lips.

“Don’t you dare kill any child of mine?”

“I won’t,” I said, burying my face in his chest. “You know you can’t leave me right?” I said, looking up into his face and pointing my finger. We had the whole restaurant’s attention by then but I didn’t care. The most perplexed look I had ever seen crossed Leon’s face.

“Why would you say something like that? I’ve been putting up with your crazy butt for six years, why would I leave now?”

“I’m just saying, if you get sick of me, you can’t move out, mister. You can sleep in another room but I ain’t with that divorcing mess.” He just smiled and pulled me closer to him.

“How ‘bout we get bunk beds. You might try to sneak some dude through the window. I gotta watch you.”

I pulled away from him and looked at him over the rim of my glasses. See that was my serious look. “Boy, you crazy.”

I called Regina when I got home to tell her the good news. The first thing she said was, “Have you come to your senses yet?”

“Yes, but do you know that you sent me a letter addressed to Thomas. Telling him all my business. What’s up with that?”

Regina burst out laughing, which kinda ticked me off all over again.

“That’s not funny. You know he used to get us in trouble all the time. Always snitching. I think he was a nosey old lady in a former life.” My big sister was coughing, trying to catch her breath.

“Whew! Girl, how dumb do you think I am? I sent that letter on purpose to give your spoiled butt something to think about.”

“Spoiled? Who spoiled?”

“You. You spoiled. I raised Joshua by myself and he turned out all right.”
She was right. Joshua was an Honor Roll student as well as a great athlete with football and track trophies all over Regina’s house.

“There’s another thing I was calling to tell you. Leon and I are getting married.”

“That’s great. Are you going to get married soon or wait until the baby comes?”

“We haven’t decided yet. You need to be looking for an apartment down here, babysitter.”

“That’s cool, I already bought the lil’ booger some onesies and bibs.”

“So you just knew I would change my mind?”

“You wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t trust the advice I would give you. And you know that I would not have agreed to you getting rid of your child.”

“Thanks, sis, I love you.”

A Fresh Start

This is the fifth and final installment of this series. Click "To Serve and Protect" in the right column to read parts one through four.

"No you're not, all you need to do…"

"I'm serious. It's...it's colon cancer. I wanted a baby to carry on my name even if it wasn't really mine," Calvin said, looking at Jeremy.

"But you said…"

"I know what I said, Shanell. Just forget it. Why are you here anyway?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, well, I'm not. When y'all getting married? I want to come to the wedding?"

I would have laughed if the whole situation wasn't so sad. I realized at that moment that his sickness was the reason why he had been so mean. I forgave him instantly, and wished that things had not turned out the way they had. It was too bad. Calvin had been so sweet in the beginning. "How long do you have?" I had to know.

"Couple of months. They say I need an operation. Didn't want no operation. Don't have you, what would be the point?"

I looked at Jeremy. He didn't say anything, just stood there, and looked out the murky front window. I loved Jeremy and he loved me. I wasn't going to let Calvin get back into my heart no matter what. He could have been lying just to make me feel sorry for him. He could have been getting me back for tricking him. But deep down I knew it wasn't an act.

Jeremy and I left when Calvin started nodding off. He looked so old, so sickly. Jeremy hadn't said a thing since we had walked through the door. I had to know what he was thinking.

"What's on your mind?"

"You're not going back are you?"

"Of course not. I couldn't go through that again. I won't put you through that. He's sick, and I feel bad for him but I can't put my life and happiness on hold for him."

"Thank you. That would have been a nightmare. I don't think I can live without you. I guess he and I have something in common."

I just looked at Jeremy for a moment then I reached over to hold his hand. I hoped that he and I would never have to endure the things I had gone through with Calvin. Jeremy was different from Calvin in many ways. Calvin was always a little rough around the edges but Jeremy was always sweet. Most importantly, Jeremy and I had never had any altercations. He had always understood and respected how I felt, even when he didn't agree with it. There wasn't any other man, that I knew of, that would go with his girlfriend to visit her sick husband. And even though I had no way of knowing what the future held, I knew at that moment I wanted to be with Jeremy forever.

"So, when are you going to give me my ring?" I asked.

Jeremy looked at me perplexed, "What ring?" Then comprehension showed on his face. "You mean…"

"Let's get married, baby," I said. Then I kissed him.

Jeremy and I got married a month after Calvin died. I think I cried a few tears for my former husband along with the happy ones that I shed. A few of Calvin's brothers and sisters came to the wedding. I thought they would have been angry with me for leaving him, but they understood. His sister, Janet spoke to me during the reception.

"Shanell, I know you were surprised to see us but we came to show you that there were no hard feelings," she said, handing me an envelope.

"I'm glad, thank you."

"Calvin was the baby of the family, which meant that he was very spoiled. He'd often thrown temper tantrums as a child when he didn't get his way. I knew that he had carried that selfishness into adulthood. I loved my brother and I miss him terribly, but I'm glad you got away from him before he stole all of your joy."

I began to cry all over again. Tears had filled my eyes in those two years more than they had my whole life. I hugged Janet and we held each other for a long time. I had loved Calvin so much for so long, but I didn't think he loved me half as much until I opened the envelope his sister had given me.

Calvin had left me a very hefty life insurance policy. I knew he had good benefits at his job but, oh boy. He had also set up a trust fund for any children that I would have or adopt. I was speechless. Calvin really had loved me in his own way. He made it possible that Jeremy and I would make more money sitting at home making babies than we would working.

I had my first child a year after the wedding. I was so thankful for my little Jamie and was glad that I had the means to give my little princess whatever she wanted. And I thanked God we had a big, strong, sweet police officer that would always love and protect us.

One More Chance

This is the fourth installment of "To Serve and Protect". Check out From Good to Gonzo, Making a Break for it, and Let's Straighten It Out, if you haven't already.

I returned home to Calvin. A few days passed before I called Jeremy. Calvin had forbid me to speak to my former lover again, but I had to get some closure. Jeremy had been there for me when I was too ashamed to turn to anyone else, and I felt obligated to give him some sort of explanation.

"Jeremy?" I said, when he answered the phone.

"What?"

"I…"

"Don't say you're sorry."

"But I am. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way."

"I thought you wanted to be in a normal relationship, not with some nut that pulls a gun on his own wife and makes her take a dump in her pants."

"Jeremy…"

"I thought you wanted more. I thought you wanted someone to love and respect you."

"I understand that you're upset. I hate that I put you in the middle of our problems."

"Whatever," he mumbled, before I heard the click of the phone.

For the next few months, Calvin was on his best behavior. Whenever I asked him to do something for me, he did it. He said that he didn't want me to strain myself and jeopardize the baby's health.

"Sweetie, is the baby growing the way it's supposed to? You don't seem to have gained any weight," he asked one day.

I didn't answer him. I wasn't feeling too good about how things were going between us because no matter how many AA meetings and marriage counseling sessions we attended, he just didn't like an act. I just had the feeling that as soon as something else started to bother him, we would re-enact the previous events and I just couldn't live like that.

I often called and left messages on Jeremy's house and cell phones. For a while he just ignored them, but eventually Jeremy did calm down. There had been so many things running through my mind and I was so happy to have Jeremy to talk to again. I missed him too, so one day I came clean with Calvin.

"There is no baby."

"What are you talking about?"

"I lied. I'm not pregnant."

"What kind of crap is that? I knew you were dingy, but damn. Who in their right mind would play with somebody about being pregnant but a crazy broad like you?"

I said nothing. Calvin's true colors were showing. He was too busy ranting and raving to notice when I picked up my cell phone, dialed Jeremy's number, let it ring twice before I hung up. Calvin was still throwing insults when Jeremy knocked on the door.

"What do you want?" Calvin asked when he yanked the wooden door open. I went to the living room closet and grabbed a bag that I had packed days ago. I pushed pass Calvin.

"Where are you going? Oh, you planned this? You gonna make a fool out of me and run off with this so called public servant? Looks like he's been serving himself with my wife."

"Make a fool out of you? You've made a fool out of me for an entire year; probably throughout the seven years I've known you. So don't you dare talk to me about making a foul out of somebody," I said, as I walked out onto the front porch.

Calvin grabbed me and tried to pull me back into the house. But I wasn't having it. "Boy, you better let me go." I yanked my arm from his grasp.

Before either of us said another word, Jeremy had pushed me to the side and grabbed Calvin by the collar. He punched him in the face and let him fall to the floor. I screamed at Jeremy before he bent down to hit Calvin again.

"I see you have no problem hitting and intimidating women but when it comes to fighting men, you're nothing but a coward," Jeremy said. Calvin sat up and stared at the floor like a pouting child.

I told him that I would be back the next day to get the rest of my things. He rolled his eyes at me, got up off the floor, and slammed the door in my face.

I filed for divorce that next week. Jeremy wanted me to marry him as soon as it was final, but I told him that we should wait a little while. I moved in with him instead and he seemed to be happy with that.

"Girl, I think your boy, Calvin has totally lost his mind," Marie said, during one of her frequent visits, since I wasn't with Calvin.

"What did he do now?"

"He looks so bad every time I see him. It's like he's sprung on crack or something."

"He's probably just drinking a whole lot more," I said. I didn't want to believe that Calvin was in that bad a shape.

"I don't think he works for Chevrolet any more either. Jimmy says every time he drives by the house, Calvin is sitting out on the porch looking crazy. Girl, he won't even cut the grass."

"That's his problem. He's just reaping what he sowed. He shouldn't have been so low down to me."

"I know girl, but you need to go over there and check on him. I know y'all getting a divorce but he's still your husband right now."

I just looked at her. Marie hated Calvin, yet she had compassion for him. I decided that I would go see him, but Jeremy was going with me.

Jeremy had mixed feelings about visiting Calvin, "What do you think this is going to accomplish? You know all he's gonna say is that he misses you and wants you back."

"He may, but I don't want him back. Calvin hurt me but I don't have to hate him. I just want to see if he's all right."

"Do you need me to rough him up a bit?" Jeremy asked, looking as if he was ready to knock a brother out.

"No, I just need you there for moral support. If he becomes too much for me to handle, you can arrest him."

When we pulled up in front of the house, I couldn't believe what I saw. The house that had been my home looked as if it was falling down to the ground. He didn't say anything, just stepped aside to let us in. I almost didn't want to enter, but Jeremy gave me a slight nudge that reminded me that it had been my idea to come.

"What do you want?" Calvin slurred.

"Have you been drinking all day?" I asked him, my nose instinctively wrinkled from the stench.

"Since you left me."

"But why? You didn't really want me anymore, and I wouldn't have stayed if you did. You did me dirty and I had to get back at you."

"I'm dying, Shanell."

Let's Straighten It Out

This is part three of "To Serve and Protect". Check out part one and part two if you haven't already.

Calvin said that he had acted so crazy because he was upset about us not having children. He said that since he came from a big family, where each one of his siblings had at least two kids, he had always felt like his life wasn't complete. Calvin knew that I hadn't been on birth control since we got married, so he went to the doctor to find out if something was wrong with him. He had been told that he had a low sperm count. As a teenager, he had lost one testicle in an accident and had obviously damaged the other one as well.

"Okay, let me get this straight," I said. "You went loony tunes because we don't have kids. I didn't know that it was that big of a deal to you, especially since you always had your nieces and nephews around."

"It's just no the same as having your own. I didn't tell you how I felt because I didn't think you would understand how important it was to me."

"You still should have told me. Then we could have avoided all of this chaos. We could have talked to some doctors and found out what our options were. How do you know there isn't something wrong with me? But the main thing I have a problem with is the fact that you hit me, Calvin. I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, it's just that when you accused me of cheating, I felt insulted. I would never disrespect you that way."

"So you think waking me up in the middle of the night, with a gun to my head was respectful. How do you see the logic in that?"

"There's nothing I can say to justify what I did to you," he said quietly. "Just let me see you. You know I can make it up to you."

"I don't know. I guess I could meet you at the park or something."

"That'll be fine. I love you, baby."

"That's what your mouth says."

"I can prove it."

Jeremy was very upset about Calvin calling. "You told me you changed your number because you didn't want to talk to him anymore," Jeremy said, pacing in front of the couch where I sat.

"I didn't want to talk to him. Remember when I told you that Calvin was friends with my sister's boyfriend? He probably gave him my new number."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious. I didn't give Calvin my number. I hadn't even talked to him since I left."

Jeremy stopped pacing and looked directly into my eyes, "Do you miss him?"

"Honestly...yes."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know yet." I wanted to tell him that I had agreed to meet with Calvin, but decided not to. I didn't want him to talk me out of it.

I thought a million thoughts on my way to see Calvin. Then, I made up my mind to go back to him. I had to try at least one more time, otherwise, I would always wonder about what could have been. Halfway through the twenty-five minute drive, I gave Marie a call. I wanted to get her input on my choice.

"Now you already know I think you should tell Calvin to kiss your behind and stay with Jeremy, but I'm sure you've already made up your mind," my friend said.

"Well, yeah, but I'd still like to know what you think about it."

"You need to do something to get back at that fool. The way he treated you, I'm surprised you didn't kill him."

"I didn't want to go to that extreme. You probably wouldn't have visited me if I went to jail."

"You know that I ain't with that jailhouse stuff. I would have sent you some money though to buy cigarettes or soap or whatever."

"Thanks."

"But you need to do something to let him know you ain't to be played with."

Yeah something, but what? As I pulled into the parking space at Overton Park, I noticed Calvin sitting in his van. I got out of my car, walked over and got in with him. We resumed our conversation that we began on the phone. Calvin mentioned the fact that since we wouldn't be able to have children, he would have liked to adopt.

"Or I could get artificially inseminated," I said.

"Yea, that's a good idea. Do you want to do that?"

"Too late, I'm already pregnant." I looked at Calvin, expecting to see a hurt expression, but instead, a stunned, then excited demeanor appeared.

"That's great! You haven't told old boy have you? I want this to be our baby, not anybody else's."

"That's not right, Calvin, I have to tell Jeremy. Keeping him away wouldn't be fair to him or the baby."

"What about us, Shanell? This is my gift from God, please don't take it away from me," he said. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me softly. I resisted at first, but then gave in to my husband's advances. He was once again acting like the man I had fallen in love with. Calvin removed my top. Then the temperature between my thighs rose as he freed first one breast, then the other from their restraint. He began to flick his warm, moist tongue across my nipples. The heat became even more prevalent when he slowly pushed up my skirt and felt around until he found the waistband of my panties. I spread my legs, inviting Calvin's probing hand into my hot opening.

I began to kiss my husband more passionately as he simultaneously helped me up and lead me to the middle seat of the van. We hadn't touched like that in more than a year and at that moment, I hoped that we would never be apart again. Calvin was pleased with the idea of being a father, even with the help of another man. I tried to think about what I was going to tell Jeremy, but when Calvin entered me, I had thoughts of no one else but him and how good it felt to have the old Calvin back.

We were about to start round two, after a short intermission, when someone banged on one of the van doors. I knew that I was very vocal sometimes and guessed that someone had heard my screams of pleasure. Angry because my mood had been ruined, I cracked open one of the doors, prepared to give the perpetrator a piece of my mind. When I looked out and saw that it was Jeremy, dressed in his uniform, I lost all train of thought. Shock, recognition and hurt were the emotions that showed on Jeremy's face. He didn't even issue us a citation for our little rendezvous; he just got into his cruiser and sped away.

Making a Break For It

This is part two of "Two Serve and Protect".

Calvin took the gun from my head, opened it and showed me the empty chamber. Then he did something that really made me see how crazy he was--he laughed. I mean a big belly laugh, like me using the bathroom on myself was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed. He walked out of the bedroom shaking his head.

"Why are you being so mean to me? What happened to the sweet, thoughtful man I fell in love with? Now, you're nothing but a psychopath."

I realized that Calvin had missed most of what I had said, when I heard the van pull out of the pebble filled driveway.

After I figured he was long gone, I eased out of the bed. I was sick of that fool. Once I had placed a call to 911, I immediately jumped in the shower, not wanting to smell like I had a dirty diaper when the police arrived. I had never been afraid of my husband before, but I was then, and I hated the feeling. I felt naïve for not noticing he had those tendencies before I married him. How could I let him treat me like that? Love was a hell of a thing.

Fifteen minutes later, I yanked the door open before Officer Jeremy Wilkins had completed his knock on the glass of the storm door.

"We got a call about a domestic disturbance. Are you Shanell Parker?"

"Yes, sir, my husband and I just got into it. He woke me up with a gun to my head. It was empty, but I was scared to death."

"Do you want to press charges, Mrs. Parker?"

"Well, no. He didn't really do anything; I just wanted you guys to have a record of the incident in case he does something like this again and I end up having to defend myself."

Officer Wilkins looked at me and nodded. He wrote a phone number on a sheet of paper from his notepad and handed it to me. I looked at him in surprise.

"Why are you giving me your personal number?"

"I want to be the one you call if you have more problems out of your husband. By the way, where does he work? Relax; I just want to talk to him. I won't even wear my uniform."

"Okay, but I know he's gonna come home clowning, so keep your phone handy."

"Yes, ma'am, I sure will."

Sure enough, when he returned later that day, Calvin began yelling before he could get the front door opened. I just looked at him and shook my head, "If you had not been acting a damn fool…"

"Fool! You're the one who's crazy. A man can't even hang with his boys without you calling, and now you're putting the police in our business. You need to get you a life."

"Tell your other chick to get a life," I screamed, slapping Calvin.

He touched his face and winced. I could see print forming where my hand had landed. Before I was able to register the expression on Calvin's face, I found myself licking blood from a loosened front tooth. Calvin had never hit me before. Normally, even when he'd said he was angry, I couldn't tell it because he always had half a smile on his face. I guess once weapons were introduced, that just opened the door for all sorts of things.

From the look on his face then, I could tell that Calvin wanted to say something, but decided not to. He stormed out of the front door instead. I dialed Officer Wilkin's number as fast as I could.

"Mrs. Parker, are you okay? What happened?"

"Just come get me. I'll be ready when you get here."

When Jeremy arrived, I told him to take me to my sister's house but he insisted on taking me home with him. He said that he wanted to make sure I would be okay. I was glad because Jean would have told my dad and I didn't want him to know what was going on. He'd never like Calvin, but had tolerated him for my sake. I didn't want my dad going over to the house, with a shotgun, trying to rectify the situation.

Jeremy didn't try to prey on my vulnerability, but left me alone to collect my thoughts in his spare bedroom. He took me to get my car and the rest of my clothes the next day, while Calvin was at work. I wasn't ready for any more confrontations. I knew that Jeremy would have had to arrest Calvin if he did anything to me. Even though Calvin had treated me like crap, I didn't want to see him behind bars.

Over the next few months, Jeremy and I became very close. We didn't share Jeremy's townhouse, but I did spend almost all of his free time over there. We took walks in the park, watched the sun set by the river, and either cooked dinner together or went out for a night on the town. It felt a little like déjà vu because Calvin and I had done some of the same things, at first.

Whenever Jeremy and I made love, he was so gentle, never rough and quick like Calvin had become. Calvin had begun to act like it was just another job when he made love to me, like he would much rather have been doing something else. Jeremy knew what I had been through with Calvin and wanted me to feel that there was another man that loved me, truly loved me. Not someone that just said the words then acted like he couldn't stand me.

I was in the tub when my cell phone rang. It was in the living room, so I yelled to Jeremy to answer it for me. He said hello, then a long pause followed. Jeremy opened the bathroom door and handed the phone to me.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey, baby, when you coming home? I miss you." It was Calvin.

It had taken him three whole months to take the time to get in touch with me and he acted like nothing bad had happened between us. When I looked up at Jeremy, he shook his head and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The sequel to Good to Gonzo.

From Good to Gonzo

This is part one of "To Serve and Protect". I finally settled on a title. I hope you like the first installment. All comments are welcome.

When Calvin and I first met, I had just lost my maternal grandmother, my Nana, to ovarian cancer. Nana had raised me, so it was really like losing my mother. I was on my way home from the funeral home, after finalizing the arrangements, when Calvin pulled up beside me at a red light and blew his horn. I looked over and he motioned for me to let down my window. I did it, reluctantly.

"Smile, pretty lady," he said. "Everything is gonna be all right."

I looked at him and smiled, but then I was overcome with emotion and tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't believe Nana was gone. I missed her so much.

"Pull over into that service station, sweetie. You need to calm down before you tear somebody's car up."

I did as he advised, against my better judgment. He could have been a rapist or murderer, but something in his voice made me feel comfortable. I watched him get out of his van and head toward me, so I got out of my car too. Without hesitation, Calvin grabbed me and hugged me. I hadn't wanted to wet up his shirt with my tears, so I started to pull away. He pulled me closer.

"You got a name pretty lady?"

"Shanell, and you are?"

"I'm Calvin. It's so nice to meet you."

It was nice to feel a warm body after feeling so cold for the last couple of days, but I didn't tell him that. As he caressed the back of my head, he spoke softly into my ear. Calvin told me that no matter what was wrong, he would do whatever it took to make it all better. I finally got myself together enough to give Calvin my number and take his. Before we parted ways, he kissed me. The kiss was so strong and intense that it felt like he was trying to alleviate all of the pain that I was feeling. If I had been in a different state of mind, I would have slapped him silly, tore his number up, and threw it in his face. Instead I found myself craving the comfort that I knew he could give me.

Calvin called me later that day. He listened intently as I relayed the details of my feelings that morning. He seemed to really care how I felt, and from that day on, Calvin and I spent a lot of time together, going to the park, seeing movies, and going out to eat at least once a week. Sometimes we would just stay home and cook dinner together. His specialty was shish kabobs, and I loved them. He was excited when I made Fettuccine Alfredo with grilled chicken.

I accompanied Calvin to his family reunion that August, after only dating a month. "I only take women I care about to my family reunions. The last time I took someone was my junior year in high school," he said. I felt very special because it had been at least ten years since he had graduated.

The Parker family reunion was a three-day event. On Friday, there was a picnic, Saturday was the banquet and Sunday, everyone went to the church where one of Calvin's uncles was pastor. Calvin had a huge family--two sisters, five brothers, and too many aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews, cousins and in-laws to name.

"Why don't you have any kids?" I asked Calvin.

"Because I've been waiting for you." I thought that was so sweet, I wanted to cry.

Calvin loved kids and often had nieces and nephews over for the weekend. They would order pizza and play Nintendo most of the time. It was all right, but I wasn't used to a lot of children running around. I only had one sister and neither of us had children. Both of our parents had been only children so we didn't have much family.

Calvin and I got married after three years of dating. I was happy with him. I tried to get pregnant for a while, but when nothing happened, I just figured that it wasn't meant to be. Call me selfish, but I kind of liked the fact that I had Calvin all to myself.

I kept myself busy while he worked. Calvin made good money as an auto mechanic, so I didn't have to work if I didn't want to. But I did bring in a little money here and there from the sale of my handmade crocheted items that I sold to neighbors and friends. Nana had left me a substantial sum of money, which I had invested wisely. I had also rented out the house that Nana and I had lived in to some old friends.

Even though things had started off perfect, the last twelve months or so of our relationship, Calvin seemed to do a 180-degree turn around. He avoided me whenever possible. When I called him on his cell phone, just to let him know that he was on my mind, he snapped at me and hung up the phone in my face. I didn't know what had gone wrong in our marriage and Calvin refused to enlighten me.

Growing up, Nana had often told me and my sister, "Don't start nothing you can't finish." So I always tried to be the same person and do the same things for Calvin that I had done to win his heart in the first place. If boredom was the problem, I hoped that we were close enough for Calvin to tell me how he felt. I considered myself to be open-minded and was willing to do anything to make our marriage work. Of course, I couldn't do it alone, but Calvin did nothing to help. In fact, he made things worse.

Whenever I needed someone to talk to, I called my friend, Marie. Marie and I had worked together for a few years before my resignation from Wal-Mart.

"What do you think is wrong with Calvin?" I asked one night while Calvin was out.

"Girl, ain't no telling. I do see him at the club sometimes. He comes in with his boys, but he dances with this one female almost the whole time," Marie confessed.

"Do you thing he's dating her? Have you ever seen them leave together?"

"The club closes at three and Julia and I always leave at around two to avoid being trampled. Calvin and the chick are usually still there when we leave."

I didn't want to believe that Calvin was cheating on me, but I knew that there was always that possibility.

Calvin often did things to express his irritation with me, from cursing me out for no apparent reason to threatening to leave me. It saddened me at first and made me wonder if he was seeing someone else seriously, but I grew used to it. I told myself he was just going through a phase, and would be okay before long. But I soon found out that it was so much more than just a grown man's temper tantrum.

A couple days after my conversation with Marie, Calvin woke me up at 3:00 AM, pressing a cold pistol to my temple. I knew he had been drinking by his alcohol-tainted breath. "Hey, baby," he cooed.

I was speechless. Tears sprang into my eyes as I stared into my husband's face.

"Why did you call me half a dozen times? Don't you trust me?"

"I was lonely," I whimpered. "I just missed you, that's all," which was mostly true.

Sometimes I would feel an eerie aching when I was alone, but that night the conversation that I had with Marie had popped into my head when he said he was going out. I couldn't help but to call to check up on him. I knew there had to be an explanation behind why his feelings towards me had changed so drastically. The other woman probably had a lot to do with it.

"Maybe I should put you out of your misery. I wish I had known you were so worrisome before I married you," he said, grinding the barrel of the gun into my face.

I messed in my pants. I couldn't help it. I was afraid that Calvin was going to take my life just because he was sick of me. A moment passed before Calvin caught a whiff of my accident.

"Huh, you scared, ain't it?" he asked.

Check out part two and part three of this story.