My Woman His Wife Saga (30 page)

As I felt the pain of the contractions I wondered if the pain I was enduring was worth it. I had been in labor for ten hours now. Yep, I was getting ready to deliver the baby James and I had conceived, and the physical pain from the contractions was almost so unbearable that I began to wonder whether or not getting pregnant by James in the first place had been worth it. While I contemplated my present plight, my mind began to drift back to the emotional pain I had endured during my childhood and adolescent years. I didn't know which pain had been worse, but while the physical pain would eventually end, it seemed I would forever be plagued by emotional pain. Of all times, why during labor was I thinking about my dirty-old-no-good uncle? I could still hear his voice.

 

 

 

 

A sharp pain in my side quickly brought me back to reality, and soon after my son was born. The doctor said it was too late to give me an epidural, so I had to bear the pain of childbirth. When he came out I didn't want to hold him. The nurse cleaned him up and put him in a crib next to my bed. I was upset that I couldn't take a shower right away. My legs felt like wet spaghetti, so even if I wanted to get out of the bed, I couldn't.

My first instinct was to leave my son in the hospital and let them deal with it. But my heart wouldn't let me. For two days straight I stared at him, letting the nurses feed and change him. I refused to hold him, but I had the nerve to get an attitude because the doctor made him cry during his circumcision. He looked so much like James and Jazz's son Jalil that it wasn't funny. I knew James didn't care, but I decided to call him anyway to let him know his child was born.

It was nearly three in the afternoon, so I called James's job. I was going to take the sucker way out and leave a message on the stations answering machine, but at this point I just felt betrayed. It wasn't really about me anymore. It was about his child. I felt that I needed to talk to James for my son's sake. I dialed the station. The phone rang twice before the nosey old lady who sits at the front desk answered.

“Good afternoon, and thank you for calling The Urban News Network. How may I direct your call?”

“Can you connect me to James Cinque, please?”

“Who may I tell him is calling?”

“His new baby's mother, bitch! Just connect us. Damn all the questions.”

The line got quiet for a second, and I thought she hung up on me. Just as I was about to snap the fuck out I heard James's voice come from the other line.”

“Thanks for calling T.U.N.N. This is James speaking. How can I help you?”

“I had a boy.”

“Excuse me? Who is this?”

“James, don't play stupid. It's Monica. I had your son two days ago.”

It got quiet on the other line, and if it weren't for his breathing I would've thought he had hung up the phone. A part of me felt bad for James. I knew this baby was the last thing he wanted, but this was the consequence of having sex without protection. In the beginning he came to me willingly. It wasn't until later on that he decided to fall back, and that wasn't working too well with me.

“Hello? James, are you still there?” I had a slight smile on my face from his discomfort, but it really wasn't a funny situation. James could shell out all the money in the world. At the end of the day I was the one stuck with a crying baby. I would definitely be getting a live-in nanny. I didn't do diapers.

“Monica, what hospital are you in?”

“The University of Penn. Why, are you coming to see your newborn son?”

“No, I'm coming to get a blood test. This ain't no
Jerry Springer
shit, Okay? I'll be there within the hour.”

He didn't give me a chance to say anything else. He just hung up the phone. I placed the receiver back on the base and sat up on the side of the bed to look at the baby up close. They had finally let me shower, so I was able to move around a bit.

I carefully took him out the crib and cradled him to my chest so I wouldn't drop him. There was no doubt in my mind that this was James's son. He had his eyes and everything. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them drop. If I was going to move on to a normal life I had to stay strong.

I laid the baby on my chest and rubbed his back. I giggled as I watched him suck his thumb. It then hit me that there was no turning back. I was a mother. I stared at him for what felt like an eternity. I had no idea how much time had elapsed, but when I looked up and saw James standing in the doorway I knew it was time to face reality, and there was no turning back. It was time to take care of business.

 

I stood outside the door and watched Monica and our son for a few minutes before I walked in. I say “our” son, because deep down inside I knew he was mine. Yeah, I truly believed that Monica was a slut, but why lie about something like this?

When I walked into the room she looked at me like she was shocked I had shown up. I stopped at the gift shop before I came up to the room and got her a few “It's A Boy” balloons, and flowers for the side table. I wasn't sure why I made the effort, but she looked appreciative.

I stood at the door for a few minutes, capturing the moment in my mind. Inching closer I slowly made my way to the side of the bed, looking at my son for the first time. Damn, there was no denying him. We had the same face. He looked just like Jalil when he was first born. I blinked back tears, keeping the reason why I was there at the forefront of my mind.

“So, do you believe me now?”

“Monica, I never said I didn't believe you. Any man would have doubts in this situation. Look at the circumstances.”

“Fuck circumstances, James. Look at him! This is your child.”

Monica began to cry and it was breaking me down. I almost gave in, but I thought about how I got here in the first place. Plus, I needed to come correct with Jazz. Her stomach was growing more every day with our children, and it was only fair to her that we knew how to proceed from here on out. I was a lot of things, but a deadbeat dad wasn't one of them. No, I didn't want Monica in my life, but we had a child together, so I had to do what was needed to make things right.

“Monica, can you buzz the nurse in for the blood test? We need to get this done.”

“Blood test? Are you telling me that you are still going to go through with it even though it is clear that James, Jr. is yours?”

“James, Jr.?”

“Yes, James will be a junior. He might as well carry on the family name.”

“Monica, Jazz is going to make our son a junior if she has one. You have to change his name.”

“It's first come first served in this game. She's just going to have to think of something else.”

“Look, Monica . . .”

Monica cut me off as she stated, “You come up in here talking about a blood test and all this other bullshit but what you need to do is bring that blood test shit to your wife because she's probably not even pregnant with your fucking baby!”

Monica was a sick, twisted, manipulative bitch and this was a perfect example of her bipolar ways. But I wasn't trying to fall for her tricks. I knew that those babies Jazz was carrying were my kids. There was no way in hell Jazz would have stepped out on me and gotten pregnant! So I quickly dismissed what Monica had said.

“Look! Call the damn nurse in so we can get this over with. I have to get home to my wife and kids.”

Monica paused and looked at me and shook her head.

“So, you're going to go through with this?”

“Either you push the damn button, or I go get her. It's your choice.”

As Monica went to her bed to push the button, I walked across the room and leaned my head against the window, trying to think of a way to propel myself into the rush hour traffic that crowded the street fourteen stories down. For a brief second I wondered if my dad was like this and my mom never said anything. Did I have brothers and sisters out there who I didn't know about? How was I going to explain this to Jaden and Jalil? How do I tell them that they have a brother and it's not from their mom?

I took a seat until the nurse came, making myself as comfortable as possible given the situation. Periodically, I would look over at Monica. She put Junior back in the crib and was looking at television. The curiosity was killing me. I had to hold him.

I tiptoed over to him and leaned over to get a good look at his face. Gently picking him up and holding him close to my chest, my heart soared when he reached up and wrapped his hand around my pinky finger. The last time I felt like this was when the twins were born, and I almost forgot how it felt to be surrounded by innocence.

Taking my seat again, I studied his face for signs of another man, but it was like I was looking into the fountain of youth. The nurse came in to let us know that she would be ready for us in a few minutes. As she was walking out the room a very stunning woman walked in. She was gorgeous, and my man began to rise to the occasion.

“Girl, you look good considering you just pushed out a baby! Where is my darling nephew?” Still in shock, I stared at the woman who was obviously Monica's sister. She was the bomb, and I had to remind myself that I had a wife at home.

“His father is holding him, but he'll be leaving soon so you can hold him then. We're waiting on the nurse to come back so she can do the blood test.”

“Blood test? For what? Didn't you just say he was claiming him?”

“Yeah, but he has to explain it to his wife, I guess.”

“His wife! Monica, are you serious?”

“First of all, you two aren't going to talk about me like I'm not here. If you have any questions about me, or my family, ask me. I have nothing to hide. Monica was a terrible mistake.”

I definitely had an attitude. How did they think they were going to put me on Front Street, like this entire episode was my fault? Monica played just as much of a role as I did. I wanted this portion of my life to be over.

Before Monica or her sister could get in another word, the nurse came in to draw blood for the test. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on Monica while the nurse tried her best to find a vein. She poked me seven times before she was able to draw blood, reminding me why I hated needles. My heart dropped when she went through the hassle with my son, his small cry echoing in my head long after she put a bandage on him.

“Sir, if you'd like to wait around, the test should be back from the lab within the hour. It doesn't normally take long.”

“That's fine, I'll wait.”

The nurse walked out, and I took my seat back in the corner. Monica and her sister made a fuss over the baby, and I heard mention of a shopping spree, but decided not to comment.

In a little over an hour the nurse came back with the results. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. A part of me was hoping he belonged to someone else, but another part of me was hoping he was mine. When I held his little body in my arms, it felt right. The nurse gave both me and Monica a copy of the lab results. I couldn't read mine. I was too scared.

“Monica, I have to get going. We'll talk another time.”

“James, what are you talking about? Read the damn paper. This is what you wanted, right?”

“I'll read it later. I just need to get some air right now.”

“Let me find out you fuckin' with a deadbeat, Moni. For all this trouble you could've stuck it out with Rico,” Monica's sister said from the sideline. I wanted to reach over and pop her in her smart ass mouth, but I decided to just keep it moving. It didn't make sense to cause a scene with my son in the room. “Monica, when will you be released? Do you have a ride home?”

“I'll be discharged tomorrow. Why, are you coming to get me?”

“I was, but since you have so much to say you can find a way home. I'll be contacting you shortly to let you know what I've decided concerning the baby.”

“How do you know he's yours if you won't even read the damn results?”

“I'll talk to you soon.”

“Of course you will. You know what's best for you.”

Reserving any comment, I left the room and went to sit in my car for a second. It took me twenty minutes and tons of tears before I unfolded the paper from Quest Diagnostics. It stated that Junior belonged to me—99.9 percent certain. Now all I had to do was break the news to Jazz.

On the way home I rode in silence, trying to decide my approach. She was due soon, too. I didn't need her stressing, but I believed that if I didn't tell her now, it would hurt her more later. I had enough with the lies, so I decided I would come straight out with it.

I got home at around five thirty. Jazz was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and the kids were at the table coloring on construction paper. I walked into the kitchen, and after kissing everyone on the cheek, I asked her to follow me out to the patio. She turned the fire on low and walked out behind me, making sure the kids were okay. I didn't say anything. I just handed her the lab results. She looked at me with teary eyes and rubbed her stomach. I was at a loss for words, and waited patiently for her to say something.

“James, what do we do now?”

“We live, sweetie. That's all we can do. We'll have to talk to Monica eventually, but right now all we can do is wait.”

I pulled my wife closer and held her in my arms as though it would be my last time. Our family was just starting to come together, and now this. But I was confident we would be okay, somehow. God didn't put more on you than you could handle, and even the worst situation wasn't as bad as it could be. We would get through this . . . we had to.