32. Lee
Lee
Blocking JB kept him out of my life for a little while, but of course it didn’t last. That would’ve been too easy.
Eventually, he popped up at my house one evening like the block button had personally offended him.
I had barely gotten the door open before he started in on me about keeping him from his baby because I was jealous he had moved on.
I almost laughed in his face. “You really think I’m jealous?”
“What else I’m supposed to think? You block me right after I get engaged, now every time I try to call about my son I can’t get through.”
“You got my email. You know where I work. If something was really about the baby, you would’ve found a way to ask without standing on my porch accusing me of being jealous.”
JB sucked his teeth and looked off toward the street. “You acting like this because I moved on.”
That pissed me off enough to make me stop pretending I didn’t care.
“I’m not jealous that you getting married, JB.
Am I happy I wasted fifteen years of my life with a boy, went to prison behind him, came home and still let his ass get me pregnant just for him to turn around and marry the next bitch? No. I’m not happy about that.”
His face tightened, but I kept going. “You hurt me. There! You wanna hear me say it? You hurt me! Seeing you propose to her hurt my feelings, and I hated that it did. But that don’t mean I want you back. It actually made me want even less to do with you.”
For once, he didn’t have something smart to say right away. Then he gave me that same look he always did when I said something he didn’t want to accept.
“Too bad.”
I frowned. “Too bad what?”
“We got a baby together. You can keep doing all this blocking and acting like you don’t wanna deal with me, but we family now.”
“No. We have a child together. That does not make you my family.”
“It make me something.”
“It makes you my baby daddy.”
He laughed. “Aight. Keep talking.”
“I will.”
“You know what? When you have him, me and Hannah can take care of him and you can get the hell on if dealing with me such a problem.”
I stared at him because he said it so casually, like he was offering to pick up dry cleaning instead of talking about the baby I had been carrying for months being handed over to him and his new fiancée while I disappeared. I didn’t even know what to say.
Maybe JB saw it on my face because he kept going. “Hannah good with kids. You know that. My son would be straight.”
The way he said my son did something to me. Not our son. His, like I was a surrogate or something. After that, I didn’t have nothing else to say to him. I stepped back and started closing the door.
“Lee.”
I kept closing it.
“See, now you doing that shit.”
I shut the door in his face and locked the deadbolt.
“Go ahead and run in the house!” he called from the other side. “You always wanna run when somebody tell you the truth.”
I stood there with my hand still on the lock while Holly came trotting around the corner.
Then JB said, “I’ll have that boy calling Hannah Mama before he calling some damn jailbird Mama anyway.”
My hand flew right back to the lock. For one second, I was going to open that door.
I could already see myself doing it too.
Open it, slap the shit out of him, and deal with whatever came after.
But that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted me outside screaming and mad enough to put my hands on him so he could turn around and act like I was the problem.
I backed away from the door. He said something else, but I stopped listening. I picked Holly up, carried her to my bedroom, and shut that door too. Then I curled up on my side with her tucked against me and cried until I fell asleep somewhere along the way.
A few days later, JB showed up at my nail suite holding the keys to an Infiniti QX80. I looked from the keys to him. “No.”
He hadn’t even gotten his sales pitch started yet. “Can I say what it’s for?”
“No.”
“Lee.”
“Take it back.”
He set the keys on my nail desk anyway. “You and the baby need more room. That little car you driving ain’t gonna be enough.”
“My car is fine.”
“You gonna need a car seat, stroller, diaper bag, all that baby stuff gonna need room.”
“And it will fit in my car.”
JB stared at me. “Why you always gotta make everything hard?”
“Why you always gotta show up with stuff I didn’t ask for?”
“Because you need it.”
“No, you think I need it.”
He stood there looking at me for another second before snatching the keys back off the desk. “Fine. Keep being stubborn.”
“I will.”
“And don’t call me asking for no money when you start planning some big-ass baby shower either.”
That caught me off guard. “Who said I was having a baby shower?”
He shrugged like he didn’t care anymore. “Whatever.” Then he left with his keys and his attitude.
The thing was, I really hadn’t planned on having a shower. Far as I was concerned, I already had what I needed. I had a bedside bassinet, car seat, some clothes, diapers, wipes, bath stuff, bottles, and my breast pump. Anything else could wait until he got here.
The last time I was pregnant, I bought everything.
Tiny outfits still on hangers, blankets, shoes for feet that had never touched the floor, and a crib I had stood in front of imagining Junior asleep inside.
Then I came home without him, and this time every time I thought about buying too much too soon, my chest tightened.
So I didn’t. People kept asking about a registry, and I kept telling them I was good. Apparently, nobody listened to me.
When Anika called asking if I wanted to go out for Cinco de Mayo with her, Wren, and Nina, I said yes before she even finished the question. I was always down for food. What I didn’t understand was why going to eat tacos required my sister to show up at my house with half a beauty supply store.
“Why I gotta be cute to eat tacos?” I asked.
Anika stood behind me working on my hair like she hadn’t heard me. She had already curled it, pulled the top half up, and left the rest falling down my back in loose curls with two curly pieces framing my face.
“I’m practicing.”
“Practicing what?”
“My hair and makeup skills. I been thinking about getting another side hustle.”
I looked at her through the mirror. “Since when?”
“Recently.”
That should’ve been my first clue, but instead I shrugged and let her keep going. An hour and a half later, I looked like I was headed to my quinceanera instead of Cinco de Mayo. All I was missing was one of them big poofy dresses and somebody’s uncle trying to teach me how to waltz.
Anika had put me in a long fitted floral dress that hugged every inch of my stomach.
It had thin straps and bright pink, green, orange, and purple flowers all over it.
She paired it with pink flats because pregnant or not, I wasn’t about to wobble around in heels to eat tacos.
Then came the gold hoops, a little gold necklace and bracelets, and a small pink bag.
I turned sideways in the mirror. My stomach had officially reached the point where it entered rooms before I did.
“Okay,” I admitted. “I’m cute.”
“I know.”
“Still too cute for tacos.”
“Can you just appreciate my work?”
“I do.”
“Then come on.”
The ride to the restaurant started normal enough, but about halfway there, Anika slapped the steering wheel.
“Damn.”
I looked over. “What?”
“I left something at the house.”
“What you leave?”
“Something.”
“Very descriptive.”
“I’ll be quick.”
She turned around, and I didn’t think much of it until we pulled onto her street and I saw cars packed into the driveway, parked in the yard, and lined along the road. Then I noticed the bright balloons tied to the mailbox, complete with little tacos and a baby bottle.
I slowly looked at Anika. “Trevon throwing a party?”
She gave me a dumb little shrug. “I don’t know. Let’s go see.”
“You live here.”
“And?”
“How you don’t know if your husband throwing a party at your house?”
“Come on, Lee.”
Something was wrong with her. I knew it. I just didn’t know what yet. She got out, so I grabbed my purse and followed her toward the house. The second she opened the front door, everybody screamed.
“SURPRISE!”
I jumped so hard my hand flew to my stomach. “Oh my God!”
The living room was full of people. Mama, Wren, Nina, Trevon, family, friends, everybody. Then I spotted Van. For a second, all I could do was stand there before I finally noticed the decorations.
TACO ‘BOUT A BABY was written across a huge sign behind the dessert table. Little tacos wearing diapers were printed on everything. There was a taco bar set up along one wall, cupcakes with tiny sombreros, bright balloons, games, and gifts stacked everywhere.
I slowly turned toward Anika. “You lied to me.”
She was already laughing. “You wasn’t gonna let us throw you one.”
“I said I didn’t need one.”
“We weren’t trying to hear all that.”
Wren came over and wrapped her arms around me. “Surprise!”
“You knew too?”
“Obviously.”
I looked past her. “Nina?”
“Yep.”
Then I looked at Mama.
She didn’t even bother pretending to be sorry. “Don’t look at me. I would’ve told you if these fools would’ve let me.”
“Yeah right.”
Mama laughed and hugged me, and that was when the tears came. I tried to blink them away because everybody was standing there watching, but that only made it worse.
“Oh, don’t start,” Anika said, already getting emotional herself.
“You shut up. This your fault.” She hugged me anyway, and I looked around the room again at everybody I loved.
More importantly, the one person who could’ve ruined the whole thing wasn’t there. I looked at Anika over her shoulder. “JB not coming, right?”
“Nope.”
That made me cry harder. “Best gift you could’ve gave me.”
Everybody started laughing.
I wiped my face. “I’m serious.”
Once everybody finally stopped crowding me, I spotted Van near the back of the room smiling like he hadn’t been helping these people lie to my face. And of course he had to look good while doing it.
I walked over. “You knew?”
“Yep.”
“How long?”
“A while.”
“And you ain’t say nothing?”