16. Kim #2
The twins still needed things. I’d already bought more clothes than they could probably wear, but every time I saw something cute, I couldn’t help myself.
After everything I’d been through trying to become a mother, I deserved to enjoy this.
By the time I made it to the baby store, my mood had gotten better.
Shopping for the twins always did that. It gave me something real to focus on.
I walked through the aisles slowly, adding things to my cart that I probably didn’t need bottles, pacifiers, receiving blankets and matching sleepers.
Then I saw two little outfits hanging beside each other.
One said daddy’s boy and the other one said daddy’s girl, I smiled and put them straight into the cart.
I could already picture Deuce holding them.
He’d probably act hard at first. But the second one of those babies wrapped a tiny hand around his finger, all that tough shit would be over.
His whole face would change whenever he talked about his daughter.
That was the part everybody kept forgetting Deuce was a good father.
He might’ve been a shitty husband, a liar and a cheater and a criminal, but he loved his child.
And our twins would be no different. I refused to believe otherwise.
I made my way toward the furniture section and stopped in front of a display crib.
It was beautiful with dark wood and looked expensive.
Exactly the kind of thing Deuce would’ve picked.
I ran my hand along the railing. I pictured him standing beside me while he complained about the price even though he could afford it.
I’d tell him to shut up and he would buy it anyway.
We’d argue about putting it together and he would swear he didn’t need the instructions.
“That’s cute.” I said to myself. I turned and a woman pushing a stroller was looking at the crib. “It is, you expecting?”
My smile stayed in place. “Twins.”
Her eyes widened. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I beamed.
“When are you due?”
There it was the question I hated. At first I hesitated. “We’re using a surrogate.”
“Oh!” Her expression changed, but not in a bad way. “That’s exciting.”
“It is.” I let her know.
“Your husband must be nervous.”
My fingers tightened around the cart and I smiled.
“He’s excited.” The lie came out easily.
Maybe because it didn’t feel like a lie.
Deuce just hadn’t gotten there yet. I moved on before she could ask anything else.
By the time I checked out, I’d spent way too much money but I didn’t care.
I loaded everything into my car and drove home feeling better than I had all day.
Until I pulled into my driveway and my father’s car was there.
“Great.” I mumbled to myself. I carried a few bags inside and found him sitting in my living room. He looked at the bags and then at me. “More baby stuff? How much more could two babies possibly need?”
I set my purse down. “You’d be surprised.”
He watched me pull out the little outfits. I held them up. “Aren’t these cute?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes landed on the words across the front, daddy’s boy and daddy’s girl. His expression changed and I already knew what was coming so I put the outfits back in the bag. “Don’t.”
“I haven’t said anything.” He replied.
“You were about to.”
My father leaned back. “Have you spoken to Deuce?”
My mood immediately soured. “No.”
“Has he contacted you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you doing this to yourself?”
I stared at him. “Doing what?”
“Building something in your head that isn’t there.”
I sucked my teeth there it was again. Everybody thought I was crazy except me. “Deuce is upset.”
“Deuce is incarcerated.” He said with raised eyebrows.
“Because of you.” I spat.
My father’s face hardened. I knew that one bothered him. “Kim, we’ve discussed this.”
“No, you discussed it and I listened.”
He had never understood my relationship with Deuce. From the beginning, he’d treated Deuce like he was some piece of trash I’d dragged home. He didn’t care that I loved him or what Deuce meant to me. All he saw was his record, his business dealings, and whatever else the FBI had collected on him.
My father saw a target, I saw the man I wanted. And now because of him, Deuce blamed me for everything.
“I never gave you information about his trucking company.”
“I know.”
“Does Deuce?”
I looked away, that was the problem. “He thinks I did.”
“Then perhaps you should accept that this relationship is over.” My father replied.
I turned back around. “It’s not.”
“Kim.”
“It’s not.” I yelled.
My father studied me for a few seconds. “What happens when those babies are born and he still doesn’t want a relationship with you?”
I hated that question because everybody kept asking some version of it. Like they were waiting for me to fail. “He’ll want his children.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
“But if he doesn’t?”
I grabbed the bags. “Why are you here?”
He sighed. “I came to check on my daughter.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“Because everybody keeps telling me how I’m supposed to feel!” I grabbed another bag. “I waited years for this. Miscarriage after miscarriage, doctor after doctor. Every time I thought I was finally going to become a mother, something happened.” I whined.
Another loss, another procedure, another apology from somebody wearing a white coat. I had watched other women get pregnant without even trying while I couldn’t keep one baby. Now I had two children weeks away from being born. And everybody wanted me focused on Deuce rejecting me Fuck that.
“I am about to be a mother.”
My father nodded.
“Yes, you are.”
“Then let me be happy about that.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
He stood. “I want you prepared.”
“For what?”
“For the possibility that motherhood may not look the way you’ve imagined it.”
I didn’t answer. He kissed my forehead before heading toward the door.
I stood there holding those bags until I heard it close behind him.
Then I went upstairs. The nursery was my favorite room in the house.
I walked to the cribs and placed the outfits across them.
I took my phone out and snapped a picture.
My finger hovered over Deuce’s name before I remembered I couldn’t simply text him and that irritated me.
Then another thought came. When he got out, I’d show him everything.
The nursery and the clothes. He’d see what we’d created and all that shit he said to me through that glass wouldn’t matter anymore.
He was going to love them and once he loved them, he’d have to deal with me.
I sat in the rocking chair between the cribs.
Shante thought I was selfish and my father thought I was delusional.
Deuce thought he could throw me away and Alisha probably thought she’d won because she was still his wife. Let them believe what they wanted to believe I had waited too long for my turn. And this time, I wasn’t leaving empty handed.