Champagne Life (28 page)

Today, I felt lightheaded so I decided to make an appointment with the clinic. The appointment was for 9:30, so I had about an hour to get ready, but the way I felt, I needed at least twice the time.

I jumped in the shower, hoping the warm water would wake me up.

It didn't.

After my shower, I headed downstairs and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. Maybe lack of food was why I felt that way.

It wasn't.

In fact, the first spoonful of the yogurt turned my stomach. I checked my watch, grabbed my car keys and headed out the front door, hoping I wouldn't have another dizzy spell before reaching the doctor's office.

The doctor listened to my heartbeat through the stethoscope. “How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?”

It all started around the time DeShaun and I lost our jobs. “About two months ago.”

The doctor listened intently and then pulled the stethoscope from his ears. “Your heart rate is slightly high.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not really. However, higher heart rates normally signify other issues. It may be stress. Have you felt stressed lately?”

That was the understatement of the year. “Maybe some.”

A few weeks back I was supposed to start the job at McIntyre and Roth but that was around the time DeShaun had walked out. I had completely forgotten about the drug test. When I called to make it up, the secretary informed me that since they hadn't heard
from me, the position was offered to someone else. I was so depressed, I couldn't even get angry with myself for being so stupid.

“We're going to perform some tests. To get a clearer picture, we'll do an ultrasound too. By your symptoms, I'm thinking you may have high blood pressure.”

Oh, great,
I thought.
That's the last thing I needed to deal with right now.

“Relax a moment,” the doctor said. “I'll have the nurse come in and take some blood. It'll only take a few minutes.”

“How long for the results?”

“A week, two tops, for most of the tests. We can give you the results of the ultrasound today. We'll call if the tests come back positive for disease or other issues, otherwise, if you don't hear from us, consider your health good. If the dizziness persists, make another appointment.” He grabbed his medical chart and started for the door. “Stress affects the body in different ways. I suggest you take it easy. Think about taking a vacay and relaxing. It'll do you good.”

I wished.

What I wanted and needed to do was to take a long puff from a fat blunt, the poor man's vacation, ghetto-style. The good news was that I wouldn't have to worry about taking sick or personal time from a job. The bad news: I didn't have that job to take sick or personal time from. My husband had left me and I didn't have an income. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

After the nurse finished sticking me and after the ultrasound, she escorted me to the waiting room.

The nurse returned ten minutes later. “Ms. Knowles, the tests show you do have slightly elevated pressure, but we can easily take care of that.”

At least one problem was solved.

“However,” the nurse continued. “Another test indicates that you're pregnant.”

My jaw dropped to the ground. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded. “Not only that, but we saw two heartbeats. You're pregnant with twins. We determined you're approximately six weeks along.”

For the second time in the last two minutes, my heart dropped, but I had to admit; with the direction my life was headed, I wasn't surprised. I did the mental calculation and realized it had been exactly six weeks since I had been with Jeremy. It was only a few days later, DeShaun and I got together. I couldn't imagine the situation getting any worse.

A
fter returning from the doctor, I thought about calling DeShaun. But what would I say?
I'm pregnant and you might be the daddy, but I'll have to get back to you on that.

Besides, how could I put my tail between my legs and call him? He cheated on
me
, the one woman he vowed to remain faithful to. He may have denied it, but I knew the truth. I felt the truth. DeShaun didn't have to come out and confess his infidelity, the answer was there.

But I had cheated too. Then again, that was only after his indiscretions. But two wrongs don't make a right.

I went back and forth like that for an hour.

I eventually made the decision not to tell him about the babies inside of me. He'd come back to me out of obligation or pity and I didn't want that. He needed to return to me on his own volition. He loved me and couldn't breathe without me, like I couldn't without him.

I headed toward the kitchen for a snack when the phone rang. I didn't want to get excited, but I couldn't help it. Maybe it was DeShaun. It had to be! He'd admit his wrongdoing, I'd apologize for mine and we'd go to therapy. Our marriage was going to be stronger than ever. We were going to be okay. I knew it.

My heart dropped when I looked at the caller ID and it read: Miriam Archer.

In no mood to speak to my mother, I let it ring. I didn't feel like telling her about the past few weeks and if I talked to her now, I would. Even if I didn't confess, she'd be able to tell. It's what she did for a living.

The phone rang until going to voicemail.

Guilt took over and I went over to the phone to call her back, but before I could, there was a knock at the door. My first thought was DeShaun.

Still gripping the phone, I headed toward the door but the phone rang again. It was my mother. I chucked the phone across the room, where it landed on the couch.

I peeked through the peephole. It was Jeremy.

I hadn't spoken to him since that night we had sex in his car.
What did he want?

I stood with my back against the door, like I was barricading him from entering—and maybe I was. I had nothing to say to him.

“I see your shadow under the door.” He hesitated. “Look, I'm sorry for showing up without phoning first, but I was afraid you wouldn't take my calls.”

I kept quiet, still hoping he'd go way.

“I only want to check on you to make sure everything is okay. If you need me you can call—anytime.”

I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. “Thanks.”

He smiled, sighing in relief at the same time. “Wow. I didn't think you'd actually open the door.”

“Then why did you come over?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I guess there's always hope.”

His curly hair had gotten bigger and bushier, and black sticky stubble was beginning to peek out from his chin. He was a little thinner too.

“DeShaun left me,” I said, not quite sure why I'd even told him,
other than it felt good to finally be able to tell someone. I didn't want to say anything to my parents yet and I didn't have any true girlfriends. My sister, the one I hadn't seen in years, was out of the question, so he was my only option. “He packed up and left.”

“I'm sorry.”

I felt his sincerity. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” That was the response I would have never gotten from my mother.

That reminded me. I had to call her back before she went downtown for her Saturday ritual; hair appointment, facial and a mani and pedi combo.

I took a step back, allowing Jeremy to come in. “I have to make a quick call, but you can wait if you like.”

“Don't get mad,” he said. “But is it me or have you put on some weight?”

“Maybe a few.” I avoided eye contact and grabbed for the phone on the couch.“This call should only take a second.”

“It looks good on you. The weight, that is. It suits you.”

“Oh, thanks.” I started dialing, but then remembered Mom's message. I pressed the voicemail button on my phone and listened.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked. “You just turned completely white.”

I let the phone drop from my hands. Most of the message was incoherent. Mom was sobbing uncontrollably, but I was still able to make out the last thing she said.

“Your father's dead, baby. He's gone.”

T
he night he left Naomi, he had driven around in his car, trying to decide where to go. Jenn kept popping up in his mind. Berti was out of town and she would let him stay with her temporarily. But he didn't want to go there.

That evening, he ended up calling M.J. and practically begging him to stay at his place for awhile, only until he could get his bearings and decide on a long-term move. Unfortunately, M.J. lived in a one-bedroom apartment that he shared with his dog, and, unbeknownst to DeShaun, M.J. had picked that particular evening to entertain a lady friend. That night DeShaun had the distinct pleasure of lying on his buddy's couch while listening to lovemaking noises that, from DeShaun's standpoint, sounded painful.

Two days later, after having sex with Naomi, DeShaun had sent her a curt text, telling her he was all right and that he'd be coming by sometime soon for the rest of his things. That was weeks ago. Aside from dropping her money from a few of his gigs for the mortgage, he hadn't contacted her again.

“Well, hello there. Fancy meeting you at this party.”

DeShaun turned around. Jenn stood there in a coral pink-and-white, strapless gown. He hadn't seen or talked to her since the night of Dean Freitag's party, the same night Naomi somehow saw him there with Jenn. The same night he promised his wife that he would stay away from Jenn and forget the business.

He had secured a few lucrative jobs and tonight was one of them. DeShaun had scheduled the party for Berti's and Jenn's attorney, but hadn't expected to see her there since last he heard, she was out of the country.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I'm good,” she said with a smile. “In fact, Berti and I just came back from a mini-vacation in Italy. A little relaxation trip before heading to Japan.”

“You look good,” DeShaun said. “So, you're still planning on moving to Japan?”

She nodded. “That's the plan. It's supposed to be within the next two weeks. It keeps getting pushed back. If I had my way, I'd push it back forever.” They stood in uncomfortable silence for a minute. “I almost forgot. A friend of mine is planning a party in a week and I'm sure she would love for you to service it for her. Would you be able to do that? I know it's late notice, but it's sort of a last-minute thing.”

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

She reached up and rubbed his arm. “I have to be honest. I've missed you.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “No one could rap Biggie better than you.”

She laughed. “Please call sometime, DeShaun. If it's okay with your wife, maybe we can hang out again.”

His smile faded. “Yeah. I will definitely do that.”

She turned and headed back into the crowd. Before she disappeared, DeShaun called out. “Wait, Jenn!”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“Doing anything tonight?”

“It's almost one o'clock in the morning.”

“That a problem?”

She winked. “Not for me. For you?”

“I'm good.”

“I'll see you after the party then.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd.

H
e used a rag to rinse off the last of the glasses, giving special attention to the water spots. When each glass was properly dried, he placed them back into the box resting on the countertop. Since buying amenities such as glasses, napkins and silverware, he was able to charge double his normal rate. Tonight, he made good money—no—great money. He had six parties lined up in the next few weeks and several more around the bend. He was finally enjoying what he was doing and actually making money at it.

Too bad it had come at a cost.

As he carefully placed the final glass back into the box, he thought of Naomi. On a night like this, he used to go home and tell her all about the evening, including the money he made. They would sit back with a glass of wine and have a good laugh about all his Countess Vargas stories, and he had plenty of them tonight.

Those days were over.

“Hi, DeShaun.” Jenn came up behind him. “I thought you left.”

“Hey. I'll be done here in twenty minutes.”

“Are we still on tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Great,” she said. “I'll wait for you by the pool. Come and get me when you're ready.”

DeShaun watched her as she walked out the French doors and onto the patio. Her dress was clinging in all the right places. He
felt a slight sensation inside his pants. It had been such a long time since he felt so much excitement for another woman besides his wife, but Jenn was one woman who did it for him.

“What are you doing?” M.J. came up behind DeShaun and placed two more dirty champagne glasses onto the countertop. “With that one, you're playing with fire.”