Zamora
The Pregnancy Announcement
I was standing in my kitchen wondering what I could whip up real fast. I wasn’t too hungry or looking to make anything heavy. I decided a cheese omelet with some fruit would be light. I placed my favorite frying pan on the gas burner and quickly grabbed the eggs and cheese. I grabbed my mixing bowl, whisk, salt, and pepper, and cracked open my eggs. I learned a long time ago to let the chill, off the eggs so they can cook evenly. It has become a habit over the years. I set the beaten eggs to the side, chopped up some pineapples and strawberries, and then grated my cheddar cheese. Initially, my idea was to keep it simple, but I thought a loaded omelet sounded better, so I went for the Applewood chicken sausage and veggies.
After slicing and dicing, I coated my frying pan with a few drops of olive oil and tossed the chicken sausage in first. Before I could add my veggies, my cellphone rang, and it was my husband. I decided I’d buzz him back after I was done, but seconds later, he called again. I added my veggies to the pan and then answered.
“Hello,” I said, placing him on speaker.
“Zee, where are you?” he asked in a rush.
“I’m home. Why?” I asked, wondering why he sounded so winded.
“Listen, I got something to tell you, and I’m on my way. If someone comes by the house, don’t answer the door, okay.” I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes,” he added.
I poured my eggs into the pan. “Why, what’s going on, Ev? What are you talking about?” I asked him, and then my doorbell chimed. “Hold on, someone is at the door.” I placed my spatula down on the counter and headed towards the door.
“No, Zee, no, do not go to the door,” he yelled, but I was already at the door. I looked through the peephole to see the back of a woman’s head, so I opened it.
“May I help you?” I asked. She turned to face me, holding her swollen belly.
“Hi, I’m Terri, and I am pregnant with Evan’s son. Can we talk?” she asked politely. Stunned, I ignored Evan’s pleas not to speak to this stranger and hit the end button on my phone. It took me a minute to register the words that just came out of her mouth, and I blinked several times. “You are Watts?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “I am, and your name again. All I heard was pregnant with Evan’s son.”
“Terri, Terri Madison. May I come in?” she asked, now rubbing her very pregnant mid-section.
Taking a moment to process what was happening, I stepped aside and let her enter our home. Maybe that was a bad decision, but I needed to know what was happening under my simple nose. I had zero reasons to think that Evan was cheating, and to have made a baby made my stomach churn.
She stepped in and stood in the foyer, and I shut the door. I realized my omelet was smoking up my kitchen. “Oh shit,” I shouted, and ran to remove the pan from the burner. I turned the vent on high and fanned the air with my oven mitt. In the midst of a coughing fit, I noticed that Terri had followed me from the foyer into my kitchen. My floor plan was open, so she didn’t have to look hard to find me. I offered her a seat.
“Thank you,” she said and hoisted herself onto a stool at the island.
The smoke quickly began to clear, and I ignored my ringing phone because I knew it was my deceitful ass husband. “So, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”
She placed her hand on top of her stomach. “Well, first, I didn’t want to do this like this, but I was tired of Evan lying to me about you and over his promises to leave you. I just thought it was time to tell you that he and I have been on and off for about a year, and I am currently six months pregnant.”
Inside I was hotter than fish grease, but I didn’t leap across the counter and dive on this pregnant bitch. I knew that Evan was the problem, but she participated and deserved some smoke just as much. “Listen, Terri, I don’t know what you wanted to accomplish by coming to my home with this news. I don’t know you, and for all I know, you could be crazy, delusional, or a stalker. However, if what you are saying holds any truth, what do you want from me?”
“I don’t want shit from you. I just want Evan to man the fuck up and be a part of my child’s life,” she shot back.
“I’m sure he will because I know for sure he wants to be a dad, but again, what do you want from me? Do you want me to give my husband a divorce so you can be with him? Do you want me to say great, we are going to be co-parents? I want to know how you felt just an ounce of comfort with coming to my home and telling me this news alone?” I asked, knowing full well that I had no intention of putting my hands on her. Still, I wanted her heart to race at the same speed mine was racing after hearing a woman tell me that my gotdamn husband, the man that I built my life with, would do me so damn dirty by not only cheating on me but conceiving a child.
Evan and I had tried for close to three years to conceive, and now I was standing in my kitchen having a conversation with a woman that rode the fuck out of my husband’s dick and had the evidence growing in her womb. I wanted to tackle her ass.
“I don’t want anything from you,” she tried to say, and then Evan walked in. She looked at him, but I kept my eyes on her because if I had looked at him, I would have grabbed the knife that I had just chopped the veggies with and stabbed his ass.
“Terri, why? I mean, really, you’d do this,” he said, and I could hear the panic in his voice.
“Evan, I told you that I was done playing games, so here I am, and you need to tell the truth!” she demanded while pounding my kitchen island.
“Zee,” he said, and I felt him moving in closer.
“Stop, Evan, stop. Please don’t take another step in my direction. Tell me, is this woman carrying your child?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“Zee, please, let’s talk after she leaves,” he pleaded, and I could feel him coming closer.
“Don’t you fucking take another step!” I yelled and reached for the knife on the counter. I knew he had stopped in his tracks. “Is it true?” I commanded.
“I, I, I, I’m not sure, I don’t know, but there is a possibility,” he answered.
“A possibility, Evan, you got me fucked up,” she blasted, getting off her stool. “You better tell yo’ muthafuckin’ wife the truth!” she blasted.
“You know what, Terri, you need to get the fuck up outta my house with this bullshit,” he said, now moving in her direction. They both started going back and forth, arguing, and I stood there watching my husband and his mistress argue.
“Enough, enough, enough. Enough!” I yelled over them. They stopped, and both looked at me. “You, Ms. Terri, thank you for stopping by and telling me the news about your baby. Thank you for bringing me the truth about your affair with my husband. I’d like for you to leave now so Evan and I can talk,” I said, trying my best to keep it together. My world was crumbling by the moment, and I needed her gone, and I needed Evan to find somewhere to be until I could muster up the strength to talk about it.
“This won’t be the last time you see me,” she said and headed for the door.
“I’m sure that it won’t, but do me a favor and stay away from my home,” I spat at her back.
“Yeah, whatever bitch,” she said and made her exit.
“Listen, Zee, baby, we need to,” he said, but I held up a hand.
“Don’t, don’t fuckin say one word to me. You don’t get to say shit right now. I need you to pack a bag, and I will call you when I am ready to talk about this,” I said, trying to walk by him.
“Zee, baby, I am so sorry, and I can’t leave you like this. We need to talk about this.”
“Nooooooooo!” I yelled. I was so hurt and so heartbroken, and I could no longer hold back my tears. “I want to snatch your fuckin’ head off your shoulders right now, Ev, and you need to move the fuck around before I end up in jail for killing your selfish, lying, cheating ass. How could you, Evan? How fuckin’ could you make a baby with another woman? I mean fuck! Evan, fuck! All the infertility treatments that I have gone through, and not only do you have an affair, you make a baby,” I shouted. My face was drenched at that point, and I was yelling louder than I’d ever yelled in my life. It was the baby that had me torn apart more than the damn affair. “Now get the fuck out!” I knew he had to go into our bedroom to get his belongings, so I headed for the basement and slammed the door. I went for the bar that we had set up and I poured a shot of vodka. I threw it back and by the time I had my fourth one, I heard the alarm chime and figured he had left.
I climbed the stairs and was relieved that he had left. I set the alarm and went to clean my kitchen. I wanted so badly to turn back time and not answer my door or even let her in. I dragged myself to the shower, and all I did was cry. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep after I drank some more vodka.
I spent the next four days alone, and when Evan begged me to come home for more clothes, I let him. After he came out with a larger suitcase, I asked him, “Why? What did I not give you?”
He sighed and let out a deep breath. “It was nothing that you did or didn’t do, Zee. It was my own bad decision, and I am sorry. I love you and I don’t want to be with her. This baby could be mine, I won’t lie, but I want us to get past this,” he said. The tears just began to fall from my eyes. I was humiliated and felt less of a woman and this woman was giving my husband something I was never able to give him.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to move forward with you after this Ev.”
“We can try, I’ll go to counseling or do whatever you say, just please, Zee. I don’t love her.”
I heard him and I don’t know why I agreed to go to counseling, but I did. After the baby was born and it was confirmed that it was his, I tapped out. I thought I could work through it, but I couldn’t. Our thing remained complicated after that for a long time. We were getting a divorce, but still shared the same home and had an occasional rump in the sheets. I was just focused on opening my catering business and Evan had become my plus one. Not everyone knew what we were going through, so we kept it cordial. I no longer hated him, but I had no more love for him.
At times I just wish I had made different choices. If I had never chosen cooking over love. I just may have never gotten my heart broken.