2. Shante
SHANTE
Iain’t never pictured myself sitting in no damn fertility clinic lying to two people I love. Matter fact if you would’ve asked me six months ago if I’d ever carry another woman’s baby, I would have laughed in your face then probably called you crazy.
But life got a funny way of humbling your ass.
There I was sitting in that cold ass waiting room with a clipboard in my lap, staring at my own name like somehow it belonged to somebody else.
Shante Carter, yeah, that was me only it didn’t feel like me.
It felt like I was watching somebody else make the biggest mistake of her life.
All because I couldn’t tell my brother no. I rubbed my hands together and blew out a slow breath. “Girl… what the fuck is you doing?” I asked myself that same question at least twenty times since Deuce came to me.
And every single time I came back to the same answer that’s my brother and his ass was in trouble. Folks always talked about blood thicker than water. Well, ain’t nobody tell you blood would have you doing some dumb shit too.
“Shante Carter?” I looked up and the nurse was standing there smiling like this was just another typical day. I forced a smile back.
“Yeah…”
My legs felt heavy getting up. Hell, everything about me felt heavy.
The closer I got to that back room the more I wanted to turn around and run straight out that damn building.
The nurse led me down this long ass hallway that smelled like bleach and hand sanitizer.
Everything was white, the walls, the floors and the damn lights.
It felt too clean for the dirty shit I was about to do.
“Right this way.” The nurse instructed.
“Mhm.” That was all I could get out. If I opened my mouth any more than that, I was liable to tell this lady I changed my mind.
She sat me in one of the rooms before the doctor walked in a minute later.
He was an older Arabic man who had probably been doing this for years.
To him, this was another patient, another appointment, another embryo transfer.
To me it was the beginning of the biggest lie I’d ever told.
He started talking about hormones and medication and the possible side effects, and the success rates. Baby I couldn’t tell you half of what that man said. My mind was somewhere else, way back at my house the night he asked me to do this bullshit.
“Shante…” The way he said my name told me something was wrong. My brother has always been the strong one, the one everybody leaned on. So, seeing him look defeated, that shit threw me off.
“I need you.” That’s all he said, four little words.
If it’d been anybody else, I would have told they ass to kick rocks, but it wasn’t anybody else, it was Deuce.
The same dude who used to split his food with me when we ain’t have enough for two plates.
The same one who made sure I had school shoes even if his was talking.
The same one that stood in front of me when life got ugly.
People see who Deuce is now with money, a nice house and cars, a beautiful wife and daughter and a successful business.
They don’t know who he used to be. They don’t know where we come from and they damn sure don’t know the shit he sacrificed so I wouldn’t have to.
That’s why this whole thing had me so damn conflicted.
’Cause how do you tell the person who always saved you “No.”
“You following me?” The doctor’s voice pulled me back.
“Huh?”
He smiled a little. “I asked if you understood everything.”
Did I understand, hell no. I understood only one thing once I walked out of this clinic today… my life was never gone be the same.
“I understand.” That was a damn lie. Just like everything else had become. He looked down at my chart.
“This process also requires emotional readiness.”
Lord if that man only knew. Emotionally ready? I was emotionally fucked up. I hadn’t slept or ate right. Hell, I cried in the shower this morning so Malik wouldn’t hear me. Emotionally ready wasn’t even in the same zip code as me.
“I’m good,” I lied. Another damn lie I was racking them bitches up today.
He gave me one last look. “You sure?”
Am I sure? No, not even a little bit, but my brother needed me.
And whether it made sense or not that was enough to get me in this room.
Even if it wasn’t enough to help me sleep at night.
The doctor kept talking, but shit, I couldn’t tell you what that man said if somebody put a gun to my head.
Hormones, medicine, success rates, whatever.
My mind had already left that damn room and back to the night I got into all this bullshit.
Deuce came over with that bullshit that nigga ain’t even call first. Soon as I opened the door, I knew something was up. Not because he looked scared because ain’t shit scared Deuce but prison. That nigga done stared danger in the face more times than I could count.
His energy was off. “What’s up?” I asked.
He walked past me, went straight to my refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. I just stood there looking at him. “See… that’s exactly why I don’t invite your ass over.”
He smirked. “Why?”
“’Cause you think you can just go in my damn refrigerator.”
He laughed. “You wasn’t saying that when I bought this refrigerator.”
“Boy, if you don’t get on somewhere.”
That little laugh disappeared. “I need you.”
I folded my arms. “Need me how? And how much is this favor gone cost me?”
His face got serious. “A lot.”
Now that got my attention.
“What you do?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I got Kim pregnant, but she had a miscarriage.”
I blinked once then sucked my teeth. “…Nigga.”
He ain’t say nothing.
“You just out here raw dogging bitches now?”
“Shante…”
“Nah, don’t Shante me. You got a whole wife at home.”
“I know.” He said, irritated.
“And a daughter.” I kept going.
“I know.”
“And you over here making babies with your side bitch?” I asked.
He looked away. “I fucked up.”
“You think?” I threw my hands up.
“Lord, you always bring me into some bullshit. And then you always expect me to help clean it up.” I rubbed my forehead. “Ain’t this some shit.”
“I know I fucked up damn Shante. I let my dick think for me instead of my brain. How was I to know I would get her pregnant and she would have a miscarriage? I didn’t know she was going to be emotional about the shit and I for damn sure didn’t know her daddy was the Feds.
Now her ass threatening me to tell that nigga everything about my operation! ”
“So let me get this straight. You got a side chick pregnant; she had a miscarriage. And now she emotional and want a baby by you so bad that she is willing to let another woman carry for her. Then on top of that she is basically forcing you to go through with this shit because she is threatening to tell her daddy everything, who happens to be the Federal agent who has been building a case against you? The side chick daddy the damn FBI. And now your whole life hanging by a thread.”
He gave one slow nod. “Pretty much.”
I sucked my teeth. “You so damn dumb you should have kept your dick in your pants.” For a minute, neither one of us said nothing. I was trying to wrap my head around the mess he’d created.
Then he cleared his throat.
“What else am I supposed to do? I ain't trying to go to prison. I gotta give her what she’s asking for, evidently, she can’t have kids.”
I frowned. “…Okay what does that have to do with me?” I asked, clearly confused.
His eyes met mine. “I need somebody who can.”
I stared at him. “I know you fucking lying!” He didn’t say another word. He didn’t have to; I already knew where this conversation was headed. “You got me fucked up.”
“Shante…”
“No.” I backed away from the counter. “No, ain’t no damn way.”
“I need you.” The words hung in the air. You ever hear some shit so crazy your brain refused to process it? That’s exactly where I was. I pointed at myself. “Me? You asking me?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I had another option.”
I threw both hands in the air. “Man, have you lost your damn mind?” You asking me to carry your side bitch baby? My best friend's husband got me out here in some Lifetime movie bullshit.”
“I’m serious.” He said.
“I can see that.” I started pacing fast one lap around the kitchen. My heart was beating so damn hard I could hear it. “You know what this gone do to Alisha if she ever find out?”
“I know.”
“You know what this gone do to Malik?” I asked.
“Fuck Malik.” He spat.
“What about me whether you like it or not, Malik my nigga and I love him. I could give a damn about the beef y’all got from years ago.” My voice cracked before I could catch it. “What the hell happens to me after this?”
He finally pushed off the counter.
“I’ll make sure you straight.”
I cut my eyes at him. “This ain’t about money, I don’t want your money, Deuce. I want my damn life.”
He stood there taking in every word. “I ain’t asking because I want to.” He finally spoke. “I’m asking because I ain’t got nobody else.”
That shit made me feel some type of way because it wasn’t Deuce the businessman talking or Deuce the hustler, it was my big brother.
The same one that made sure I had school clothes before he bought his own.
The same one that took ass whoopings so I wouldn’t have to.
The same one who never asked me for shit.
I closed my eyes. “Man, this gone ruin everything.”
“No, it won’t if nobody finds out.”
“How the hell I'm supposed to keep this shit a secret?”
“By acting like a normal pregnant woman. You don’t have to tell muthafuckas how you got pregnant, they gone automatically think it’s Malik’s.””
I realized he already knew I was the only person he’d trust enough to ask and somehow that made saying no hurt just as much as saying yes. I walked off because if I stayed standing in front of him another minute, one of us was gone be on the damn news.