Chapter 6
6
Mona
“ I can’t believe this,” I whispered, holding up the blue and white stick.
“If that’s positive, you better start talking,” Karla demanded.
Lariah gasped. “This better not be Winston’s baby!”
“It’s positive, and no, it’s not Winston’s baby. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“The beginning, ho,” Karla spat.
It had been a few weeks since I’d seen my best friends, and we were overdue for a girl’s night in. I provided the pizza and breadsticks, Lariah brought the snacks, and Karla brought the wine, although I couldn’t partake.
We were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace in my apartment. It was the beginning of March, and spring was around the corner, but that meant nothing in Chicago. The temperature still barely reached the thirties.
I’d been feeling out of sorts for the past few weeks, but because my cycle had come twice, the idea of being pregnant hadn’t crossed my mind until I had to race to the bathroom to vomit when I got home today.
“I met someone in New Orleans.”
“New Orleans? That was three months ago.” Lariah pointed out.
“I know.”
“I guess we don’t have to ask if you got some dick. Are y’all doing the long-distance thing, or what?” Karla asked.
I shook my head. “He lives in Chicago.”
I shared with them how I ran into Clinton and how we spent the next three days together, including New Year’s Eve. Talking about it took me back to one of the happiest times of my adult life, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Damn, girl. He must be something special. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years,” Lariah said.
“He is something special, but I told him I wasn’t ready for another relationship.”
“Girl, you’ve been single for at least eight years, regardless of your marital status.”
“Thanks for the reminder, Karla, but I needed time to focus on myself.”
“I get that, sis, but it looks like you brought back a little souvenir from NOLA, and you need to tell that man he’s about to be somebody’s daddy,” Lariah said.
“I know, but I haven’t communicated with him since he left New Orleans.”
“Do you have his number?” Karla asked, and I nodded. “Then call him.”
“I can’t just call him. It’s more complicated than that.”
“We’re listening,” Lariah pressed.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “His name is Clinton, and New Orleans wasn’t the first time I’d met him.”
“And the plot thickens. Tell us more,” Karla prodded.
“He’s kinda sorta, but not really friends with Winston.”
“Shut up!”
“Are you for real?”
They were in shock, understandably so.
“Clinton said he met Winston through his business partner, who met him through someone else. He referred to them as associates, not friends.”
“If this doesn’t prove how small the world is, I don’t know what does,” Lariah said.
“Seriously, but I don’t care if they are or were best friends. It would serve Winston’s punk ass right to have a front seat to watch you be happy with another man,” Karla proclaimed.
“I know that’s right! Them being friends would make it so much sweeter,” Lariah agreed.
“I agree, and before we had sex, I thought about using him to get revenge.”
“That’s understandable,” Karla said.
“But it was only a passing thought. Me and Clinton had an authentic connection, and it didn’t have shit to do with Winston’s trifling ass. This man… he’s quite literally everything. Well, at least he was in New Orleans.”
“Then why did you send him off?” Karla asked.
“I told you I needed to work on me. Even though my divorce was a long time coming, it was hard and…”
Tears filled my eyes as I thought about what I’d almost done in that hotel room three months ago. I hadn’t told a soul besides my therapist, who I’d been seeing since I returned from my trip.
“And what, Mo?” Lariah questioned.
I shook my head. “All I can say is therapy works wonders. Everyone should partake.”
“Ain’t that the truth! Mine tried to fire me, but I had to nip that in the bud,” Karla agreed.
“Mine too, girl. Life gon’ keep life-ing, so I don’t know what makes her think I don’t need her anymore,” Lariah added.
“I should’ve been in therapy years ago. Maybe I would’ve left Winston much sooner, or maybe never married him in the first place.”
“Don’t dwell on the past. You’re getting the help you need now, and that nigga is old news. That’s all that matters. Now, back to Clinton. When are you going to call him?”
Lariah was the pushy one of the three of us. If I didn’t tell her when I planned to call Clinton, she’d bug me until I did.
“He probably gave up on us reconnecting.”
“Why?” they asked simultaneously.
I picked up my phone, unlocked it, opened the text thread between me and Clinton, and gave it to Lariah. Karla leaned toward her so they could look at it at the same time.
“Umm, sis, this man has texted you once a day since the first of January,” Lariah stated.
“I know, and that’s not how this was supposed to work.”
“Why are you ignoring him?” Karla questioned.
“He said he respected my desire to work on myself and to reach out to him when I was ready.”
“So, you’re punishing him because he contacted you first?” Karla continued. “And let’s not pretend like if he hadn’t contacted you, you wouldn’t be wearing a hole in the rug, pacing back and forth, wondering what you did wrong.”
“Shut up!”
“Nope, because you know I’m right.”
“I didn’t go to New Orleans expecting to hook up with anyone. The purpose of going alone was to be alone.”
“Do you regret it?” Lariah asked.
“Not at all. The time I spent with him was refreshing, eye-opening, and the best time I had in my adult life.”
“But?” she pressed.
“I genuinely needed some time alone. I wasn’t ready to communicate with him for the first month. I’d just started therapy and was an emotional wreck. Once I got a better handle on my emotions, I felt he disregarded my wishes and thought he could ‘force’ me to communicate with him.”
Lariah looked at my phone again as her thumb swiped the screen. “Nothing he said sounds forceful, Mo. There are no threats, demands, or expectations in these messages.”
“It’s not what he’s saying. It’s the fact that he’s saying anything. I was supposed to reach out to him when I was ready, and he didn’t even give me a chance.”
“So what! He’s a real man, unlike that bitch you were married to. He’s in tune with his emotions and isn’t afraid to express himself to a woman he clearly cares for. Have you read any of the messages? He misses you, Mo,” Karla said. “He says it several times.”
“I miss him, too, but—”
“But nothing. Stop making these weak ass excuses and call that man. Tell him you miss him too and that you’re having his baby,” Lariah demanded.
“Fine… after I throw up,” I announced, covering my mouth and running to the bathroom.