26. Corinthians #2
“Morning, brothers and sisters in Christ,” Madea said, smiling.
She set her purse on the podium. “I’m honored y’all invited us here to celebrate with y’all.
I remember when Pastor Cartell came to my husband all those years ago and asked for advice.
He was ready to step away from the Kilmore church and wanted to start fresh with his lovely wife.
” Madea nodded at Mrs. Cartell, and the crowd cheered.
“It has been an honor to watch y’all grow.
” She closed her eyes and swayed. “Now, with that being said, let me address something, First Lady Cartrell. That sly shit you just tried to pull ain’t gonna happen again.
” Madea pulled her gun from her purse, cocked it, and set it on the podium.
“If you have something to say about my grandbaby, say it to me. Don’t try and be slick and beat around the bush with a half-ass sermon up here.
Let your husband preach; he ain’t that good at it, but let him do it.
You will get your ass beat trying me.” She looked over at Granddaddy, who was standing with a smile on his face.
“Let the Lord guide your mind and steps from here on out, and don’t be quick to judge because yo house ain’t clean.
Your husband been fucking on the boring ass children’s choir director for years.
In case you didn’t know, them kids of hers are his. ”
Madea picked up her purse, grabbed her gun, and walked away from the podium and right to the first lady.
She put her gun under her chin, bent and whispered something in her ear that only she could hear, then stood and walked away.
Granddaddy was right behind her. We stood and walked out as a family with our church members behind us.
“Best Friend, you know you scared the hell outta them folks,” Krude laughed as we walked to our cars.
“They’ll be alright,” she said as she put her gun away.
She turned and looked at me. “Now I know I’ve told you this before, but I’ma say it again because I don’t think you were listening when I told you years ago.
Don’t ever let a bitch see you with your head down.
Always keep it up. You hear me? As a matter of fact, walk around with a chip on your shoulder from now on.
Be that muthafucka that they hate seeing come through the door because they know what’s coming behind you ain’t nothing to play with. ”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, nodding.
“Good, now let's go. I’m hungry, and it's hot as hell out here.” Madea turned and looked at Granddaddy. “Don’t bring me to no more damn anniversary services that ain’t in an air-conditioned building, you hear me, Gabriel?”
Granddaddy opened the car door for her and laughed. “We ain’t getting invited to shit else so don’t worry about it,” he said. He closed the car door then turned to us. “Meet me at the house tonight. Yo grandmama might have thought that was the end of it, but it’s not.”
***
“Do you want to know the sex?” my doctor asked, and I shook my head as I looked out the window.
Hearing the heartbeat was enough for me.
The baby was alive; I was doing my job. “Oh, you’re playing the waiting game.
I get it.” She wiped the cool jelly from my skin, laughed, and stepped back.
“Okay, so everything looks good if you were wondering.”
I didn’t say anything as Psalms helped me up.
She came with me to every appointment. From the moment she found out I was pregnant, she’d been excited.
The guestroom closest to my bedroom had been converted into a nursery that she was decorating.
Right now, she and Krude were arguing about the theme.
The last time it was brought to me, she wanted to do colors, and he wanted characters. I didn’t care either way.
“Are you still saying she can go any day now?” Psalms asked.
“Yep, she’s already dilated. We need those contractions to start being more consistent, and then you’ll be holding that sweet baby in your arms,” she answered. “You’re excited; I can see it in your eyes.”
“I am,” Psalms told her. “I already know this baby is going to be the best thing that happened to us in a long time.” I looked over to see my sister smiling, and my heart broke just a little.
I wasn’t connected to this baby. I didn’t feel the joy she did.
I was just the incubator for a person I had no say in bringing into the world.
“Well, Auntie,” the doctor laughed. “I’m glad you’re excited.
” The doctor patted my leg. “Your sister here is a bucket of nerves that I see with a lot of first-time moms. They always look like they're a deer in headlights until they hold their baby, and then every emotion they've been holding in comes rushing out.” She stood and adjusted her stethoscope around her neck.
“I doubt I will be seeing you two in my office next week for another checkup, but as a precaution, go ahead and make an appointment on your way out.”
“Will do,” Psalms said, nodding. “Thank you, doc.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, then left the room.
“What’s up with you?” Psalms asked after the door closed.
“Nothing,” I answered, shaking my head. I pointed to the black sweats on the chair, and Psalms handed them to me. “I’m just tired.” I got out of bed, put on my sweats, then threw away the paper covering.
“You sure? Because you’ve been unusually quiet,” Psalms said, and I nodded.
I didn’t have the energy to tell my sister that I wasn’t excited about this baby.
That I was terrified of who my child's father was. When I took that pregnancy test, and it came back positive, I sat on my bathroom floor for hours. Not one tear fell from my eyes. I knew that I’d been raped that night; I’d taken a morning-after pill and then got on my knees and prayed to God that I wouldn’t carry my rapist baby.
My prayers fell on deaf ears. The morning of my appointment, I woke up to Psalms saying her house had caught fire.
When I was leaving to check on her, I got a call from Robert; he told me if I killed my baby, he would kill my sister, that the fire was just a warning.
I was stuck carrying a child to keep my family safe.
“Yeah, let’s go.” I opened the door to the room, and Psalms followed me out.
I made sure to stop at the desk to make an appointment, and then we left.
Isaac sat in the waiting room like he did every other appointment.
I’d been waiting since the blow-up at the church anniversary for Robert to show.
He hadn’t. Just called and told me he wasn’t pleased and would be seeing me soon.
“Don’t say shit to us,” Psalms said, walking past Isaac.
He looked up from the magazine he was reading, smirked, and nodded. “It’s good to see you too, Psalms.” She didn’t respond as she walked out of the door. Isaac grabbed my wrist to stop me from following her. “Robert wants to know if the baby is a boy or girl.”
“I don’t know,” I replied without looking at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head move to my stomach, but I moved before he could touch me.
“Find out.” He kissed the side of my head, then stepped back and opened the door for me to leave. “I’ll see you later.”
When I got to my car, I got in and waited for Psalms to get into hers.
Once she was safely in her car, I started my car and left.
I hated the fact that Robert still controlled so much of my life.
Even from afar. I wasn’t escaping him. I was also starting to grow numb to that fact.
I didn’t have any more tears left to cry; there was no reason for them anyway. Nothing was going to change.
I needed to grab a few groceries, so I stopped by the store. I walked through the store, grabbed what I needed, paid for everything, and left.
In the middle of the cereal aisle, I stopped walking and stared at a man walking.
Dressed in black jeans and a white shirt that was stretched over muscles that I knew took hours to form in the gym.
Golden-brown skin was covered in tattoos.
His beard was short but full, his lips were thick, and his nose looked like it had been broken more than once.
I couldn’t see his eyes because they were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and a KC hat covered his hair.
Normally, when I noticed men watching me, I got nervous, antsy to a degree, but not with him.
I took a step towards him. “Excuse me,” an elderly woman said, stepping in front of me. “Do you think you can hand me that bag by your head?” I looked to my right at the bag of cereal she was pointing at. I grabbed it and handed it to her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, then turned back to see if the man from earlier was still there. He wasn’t. There was something about him that made me look for him when I walked down every aisle. I never saw him again.
***
“Push, Corinthians!” Psalms said from beside me. “Push!”
I bared down, grabbed the back of my thighs, and pushed.
I wasn’t ready to be a mother yet, but this baby didn’t care.
It let me get home, put up my groceries, take a shower, and as soon as I got out, my water broke.
I knew that typically first-time mothers' labor lasted hours, not this one.
This kid was ready to come out. By the time Psalms got to my house, my contractions were less than six minutes apart and strong.
On the way to the hospital, Psalms called Madea and told her what was going on. She met us at the hospital.
“There you go,” my doctor said. “I can see the head. Give me a few more good pushes, and you will be holding your baby.” She looked up at me. “On the next contraction, I want you to push just like that, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied.