Chapter 5
Five
Karla
“ H ow was your honeymoon?” I asked Mona as soon as she entered my small two-bedroom home.
“Can I get comfortable first?”
“No! Spill it!” Lariah shouted from the couch.
It had been a little over two weeks since Mona married the love of her life. They were in Punta Cana for ten days, including the days we were there before the wedding. She’d been back a few days, and this was the first time we’d been able to get together.
“Why are y’all acting thirsty?” Mona questioned.
“We ain’t acting thirsty. We just wanna know all the nasty details about your honeymoon,” I told her.
“You know I’m not about to tell y’all all the gritty details. That’s between me and my husband . Oh my God. Doesn’t that sound good? I never thought I’d be so happy to say those words again.”
“It sounds beautiful, friend. You’re glowing, and we know it's because of Clinton. I’m so happy for you,” I said.
“Me too. You deserve it after what the asshole put you through,” Lariah agreed.
“Thank you. The honeymoon was amazing though. We relaxed, did some excursions, and had plenty of orgasms in between. I missed my babies after they left with my mother though.”
“It was the first time you’d been away from them that long, and they’re still very much babies. As they get older, you’ll welcome the time apart,” Lariah said.
“I’m sure I will. You should have seen how excited they were to see us. It was adorable. Now that you’re all caught up, I got some tea.”
My eyes widened in surprise because Mona was definitely not the gossipy type.
“Tea?” Lariah questioned. “You’ve only been back home for a hot minute, and I’m sure you’ve been engrossed in your family. How did you find time to get some tea?”
“Well, I got this tea in the D.R.”
Her eyes were on me, and her lips were turned up in a sly smile. I wondered if the tea was about me, and if so, what could it be?
“We’re listening, friend. What’s the tea?” Lariah pressed.
“A few days after the wedding, me and Clinton were at breakfast. This fine ass man approached our table asking questions.”
I shifted in my seat. “Umm, who was the guy?” I asked nervously.
“I think you know exactly who the guy was.” She pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest.
“How would I know?”
I’d resorted to playing dumb. She wouldn’t get any information from me until she gave me more information.
“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Lariah asked.
“Apparently, we both missed something. Our bestie here befriended a fine gentleman on her last night in Punta Cana and ghosted him the next morning. She didn’t leave her number or anything for the poor man to contact her.”
I looked everywhere but into the faces of my friends. For some reason, I was embarrassed.
“Karla, you’re keeping secrets now?” Lariah questioned.
I shrugged. “It didn’t come up.”
“What do you mean it didn’t come up? You got some foreign dick and didn’t tell us?”
“Mona, be serious. If you talked to him, you know damn well he wasn’t Dominican.”
“You know what I mean. That’s not the important part anyway. What’s important is that you got some dick. Clearly, you made an impression because as soon as he saw us, he made a beeline for our table to ask for your number.”
“What? Please tell me you didn’t give that man my number.”
“Has he called?”
“Mona! You gave him my number?”
“No, because I know how you are.”
“Oh, thank God!” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“But . . . I did get his number. I promised I’d give it to you, but I didn’t promise you’d call.”
I shook my head. “What’s the point of calling? I doubt he’s from Chicago, and I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship.”
“You didn’t find out where he was from?” Lariah asked.
“Why would I do that? I wanted some dick, he gave it to me, and that was that.”
My friends exchanged a look.
“How was the dick?” Mona asked.
Just thinking of sex with Elias made me clench my thighs. I’d thought about it every day since leaving him, and I had to buy a new vibrator because I wore the old one out.
“Was it that good?” Lariah pressed when I didn’t respond.
I sighed as a smile crept on my face. “It was so good. It was amazing. No, it was more than amazing. That man took such good care of my body. All this time, I thought I was sexually satisfied. I mean, Cairo was better than the men I slept with before him, but it wasn’t like there was a whole slew of them.
Elias, though, . . . he sent me places I didn’t know existed. ”
“Damn, sis,” they chimed simultaneously.
“I fantasize about him every day, multiple times a day. It’s crazy.”
“You should call him,” Lariah said.
“You’d be crazy not to, sis,” Mona added.
If I called him, it’d just make me crave him more than I already did. I had no intention of putting myself through that kind of torture. Besides, with my job and my kids, I didn’t have time for long-distance dick appointments.
“Well, call me crazy because I’m not calling that man. My life is complicated enough without adding a long-distance situationship to the mix.”
“At least call him to find out where he’s from.”
“I’m not calling him, Mona.”
“Fine.” She had a slight attitude, but I didn’t care.
“What else has been going on?” I asked since the conversation about Elias was going nowhere. “Lariah, did you and Dominick enjoy Punta Cana?”
She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “I think we had a little too much irresponsible fun. My period is late.”
Karla and I gasped.
“Oh my God. You think baby number three is on the way?” I asked.
“Possibly. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’m never late.”
“How do you feel about the possibility?” I asked.
“Dom is ecstatic at the idea. Of course, he’s hoping for a boy.”
Dominick and Lariah had been married for twelve years and had two daughters, ages ten and seven. We hadn’t discussed it, but I was pretty sure they weren’t planning to have more.
“She asked how you felt,” Mona pressed.
“I don’t know. Obviously, if I’m pregnant, I’ll have the baby and love it as much as I love Dominique and Larina. The seven-year age gap is what’s gonna kill me. Where am I gonna find the energy for a newborn?”
“Damn. I usually have a pregnancy test or two tucked away, but for obvious reasons, it’s not necessary anymore,” I said.
“I’ll get one on my way home. I actually need to head out. The kids went to church and had an early dinner with my parents. They should be dropping them off soon.”
We talked for a few more minutes and exchanged hugs and goodbyes.
Not long after they left, I got a text from Mona.
It was just a phone number, and I didn’t have to ask whose number it was.
I stared at my phone for over a minute before quickly deleting the text.
I didn’t need that type of temptation in my life.
It was approaching two in the afternoon, and Cairo would be dropping the girls off at five. We shared custody, each of us having them for a week at a time. Typically, he didn’t feed them before dropping them off, and I assumed today would be no different.
Although it was the beginning of May and unseasonably warm for Chicago, I decided to make the girls one of the favorites. Since the first time I made homemade chicken pot pie when Caira and Chloe were probably three and six years old, they’d requested it at least twice a month.
I could’ve taken the easy way out and bought a frozen pie crust, frozen vegetables, and canned cream of chicken soup.
Instead, I made the pie crust and cream of chicken soup from scratch and used fresh vegetables.
It took longer doing it that way, but my girls thoroughly enjoyed it.
By the time I finished, there was a knock on my door.
I washed and dried my hands before answering it.
After looking through the peephole and confirming who it was, I opened the door.
“Hey, Mommy!” my girls said simultaneously before hugging me.
“Hey, girls. I made chicken pot pie. It’s in the oven and should be done in about ten minutes.”
“Yay!” they cheered before running to their room, leaving me and their father standing at the door.
“How were they?”
“Fine, as usual.”
“Okay. I’ll drop them off Sunday at five, as usual.”
I started to close the door, and he stopped it with his hand.
“Hold on, Karla.”
I sighed because, for once, I thought he wouldn’t be with the bullshit.
“What?”
“Can you step outside for a minute so we can talk?”
“No. The only thing we need to talk about is the girls. If it’s not about them, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Don’t you think it would be good for them to see us getting along?”
“They don’t see us arguing.”
“True, but they don’t see us being friendly either.”
“We’re not friends.”
He shook his head. “But I’d like to be.”
“I guess stranger things have happened, but they won’t happen today. Have a good night.”
This time, when I closed the door, he didn’t stop me.
After interacting with him for even a short time, my mood could turn sour.
I hadn’t seen my girls for a week outside of FaceTime, and I refused to spend our first night back together in a pissy mood because of their raggedy ass father.
I shook it off and headed to enjoy the rest of the evening with my girls.