My Woman His Wife Saga (40 page)

The surgery started exactly two hours later. I sat by my son's bed the entire time leading up to it, wondering who his real daddy was. I mean, I'd been there since the beginning, so I was technically his dad, but who created him was the real question. Me and dude must have looked alike because Jordan had all of my features, from my thick eyebrows to my full lips. Jasmine hated that none of the kids looked like her, and I often teased her that I did all the work and it showed. Those were the days when we were in love, and nothing could have come between us. Before Monica came and poisoned everything we worked so hard to achieve. That bitch! Honestly, the poison had to have already been in the works for her to come and mess everything up so bad, but I didn't have the energy to contemplate all of that at the moment.

What was she doing back in Philly was the next question. I hadn't heard from her in months. Even after we moved and I tried to get in contact with her I couldn't. The cell number I had for her changed and she never responded to the letters I wrote and sent to the return address on the checks she sent us. I used to send her pictures and videos of Junior all the time and I guessed it got to be too much for her. I just felt like although she wasn't physically a part of her son's life that didn't mean that she shouldn't know about it or him. He was just as much a part of her as he was a part of me.

It wasn't lost on me either that Jasmine didn't really care for the boy being around. She wasn't beating the shit out of him, or locking him in closets or no shit like that. Her temperament with him was noticeably different from the other kids though.
Just because you hate the boy's mom doesn't give you just cause to treat him different. He didn't ask to be here.
What pissed me off now though was that she was doing all this crazy shit and acting all crazy with Junior, and here we were four years in and come to find out there are two children who ain't even mine. Two! Like, for real? I swore if she wasn't already down for the count I'd have put her ass there for this scandalous shit.

Lord, I can't wait until she wakes up. Oh, I'll make sure she's cool in the gang first, but then it's her ass. Ain't no way to worm out of this one. The only thing I ever did wrong was bring another woman and a kid home. Shit, I guess that makes us two for two.
My shit was up and out in the open though . . . Secrets definitely hold more sting.

When the nurse came in to wheel Jordan up to the surgical unit I broke down in my mother-in-law's arms. Kids are not supposed to go through these types of ordeals. Yeah, the occasional bruised knee or broken arm from climbing a tree, but near-death experiences? Naw, that wasn't natural. On the flip side, we would have still had all of these secrets. The entire thing was a mess, but it's always been said that what goes on in the dark comes to light, and right now the light was shining bright as hell.

The doctor said things wouldn't take long; they just had to operate on one of his lungs to get everything moving and he would be good to go. The rejection rate wouldn't be high because the blood was coming right from Jazz, who shared the same blood type.

About an hour and a half into the surgery the doctor came out to talk to us. As soon as I saw him I sprinted over to him, wanting to be the first to hear the news. Jasmine's mom had long ago taken the kids home, and the only one left here with me was Jasmine's dad. I guessed to ensure I wasn't a flight risk. I was past that feeling of wanting to leave though. Now, I just wanted to be sure that everything was going smooth with my wife and son. I wanted to crack Jazz's skull most of all, but there was a time and place for everything. I just needed everyone to come out of this alive.

“Mr. Cinque, everything is looking good, but we are not out of the danger zone yet,” the doctor began with a straight face.

“What do you mean, Doc? I don't think I can take much more of this.”

“Well, the lung issue is fixed, and the blood transfusion went well. He's just being closed up as we speak. We just need to ensure that there will be no setbacks with the blood transfusion after the fact. Although the blood came from your wife, and everything looks good now, we just want to make sure everything stays good.”

“Okay, that's understandable. When will I be able to see him?”

“In about a half hour or so. Once we have him stabilized and in recovery I'll have one of the nurses come to get you and your family. Don't worry, Mr. Cinque, everything will be fine,” he answered in a reassuring tone.

“And if it's not?” I questioned back, feeling uncertain.

“Then I will do everything in my power to make it right. I know you want your son home, and he will be soon.”

My son. Not the dumb-ass man Jazz was foolish enough to have unprotected sex with, but
my
son. The doctor reached over and gave me a hug, and I had to gather myself before I broke down again. As he walked away, I went and took a seat next to my father-in-law. I wanted to have a heart-to-heart with the man, maybe get some words of wisdom from someone who'd been doing this marriage thing for years. I had questions, and I needed guidance to get through this mess that was my life.

“I know I messed up this time,” I began in an apologetic voice. He turned his head to look my way, but didn't say a word. I took that as my cue to continue.

“I just need to know what to do to get back on track. You've been with Jazz's mom since forever. You telling me you never messed up?” I asked him, getting all emotional and shit. I was just so tired of things being the way they were now.

“Of course I've messed up, son. Of course I have,” he responded, shaking his head back and forth. “And I know what kind of pain the mess-ups caused to my wife and kids. I promised my wife years ago that I would never do anything else to disrupt our unit. My kids will never see us go through anything damaging again,” he said in a sad voice.

“What do I need to do to get back on track?” I asked him in a desperate voice. I needed help . . . I needed answers.

“You get out what you need to discuss and you let it go. Move forward and don't look back. I know you're hurting, son. I know you feel confused because a huge lie was brought to light. Both of y'all did some crazy shit to each other. Discuss it and let it go. Move forward, and create a better atmosphere for your children. All you and Jazz have in the world are each other, outside of family of course, but we can't be or stay married for y'all. It's all on you.”

I understood exactly what he meant, and no more words were needed. I had to stand up, and bring us all back together. It was time for me to step my game up, and get everything back on track. Jazz and I needed to discuss how we were going to move forward, whether it was with each other or solo. However it was going down, it needed to be discussed as soon as possible.

I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes, thankful for Jazz's father. Even her brothers. I didn't even have any hard feelings about what they did to me because if I had a sister I would have done the same, if not worse, for her. At the end of the day all we had was family, and we had to stick together through the thick and the thin, no matter how thin shit got.

Lord, I just wanted it to be over. I knew my son would be coming out of surgery soon, and we would be able to meet him in recovery. I wanted to be ready, so I told my father-in-law that I was going to use the restroom right quick so that I could be ready to go down to recovery when it was time.

It didn't take long to relieve myself, and as I stood in the bathroom mirror, I could see the toll the last few days were taking written all over my face. Cupping my hands under the faucet, I took some water and splashed it on my face in order to wake up. That helped a little, but what I really needed was a soft bed. After drying my hands, I dug into my pockets for a piece of gum to get this stale taste out of my mouth.

I felt the piece of paper, and when I unfolded it I recognized the handwriting before I even saw the name.
Monica . . . that bitch! I swear, she always found a way to worm her ass in where she's not wanted.
Jazz's mom didn't know about all the nonsense we went through with her, and I was sure when she approached her she played it innocent. And if she saw Jazz's mom that meant she saw her son. Once again, this was all too much! I simply folded the paper and stuck it in my wallet. I wasn't sure if I was going to contact her or let her find me. Monica always got what she wanted, but what, in fact, that thing was I was unsure about at the moment.

This woman was going to drive me crazy, but I didn't have time to think about that at the moment. Tucking my wallet back in my pocket, I went out and sat down next to Jazz's dad. He gave me a comforting smile, letting me know he understood and he was there for me. I felt a little better knowing that things could get better if we worked on it. The kind of love that Jazz's parents had was undeniable, and I felt like me and Jazz could have the same happiness if we worked hard enough for it.

I remembered on our wedding day Jazz's father told me that marriage wasn't easy, but worth fighting for. There would be plenty of ups and downs over the years, and sometimes it would feel like we would never make it through.

That statement never meant much to me before, but as I sat here and reminisced about how things used to be, I couldn't help but wonder how much work it would take to get it back. Was getting it back even the way to go?
Will Jazz even want to? I'm angry about a lot of shit, and I know she is to, but for the moment we'll just have to see where this road takes us. For better or worse, through sickness and health was what we vowed to one another.
There was no turning back now, and I was ready to fight for mine . . . whatever that is.

“Was it her?” I asked the person on the other end of the phone. I thought Sheneka was lying when she said she saw Monica at the airport. Was the bitch serious? It'd been years since she stepped foot back in Philly, and I wondered for a second what she was doing back here. I still had an unsettled beef with her regarding Rico, and Sheneka had some shit to get off her chest as well.

I had one of my top lieutenants follow her just to make sure. Sheneka had an undying vendetta against Monica, and I had to make sure she wasn't sending me on a wild goose chase like she'd done in the past. Every dark chocolate woman she saw with curves reminded her of Monica, and at one point over the years I had to check her into a mental facility so that she could get her head on right. Hell, she was in one now, and they allowed her to hold a little part-time job during the week, so she worked at a coffee cart at Philadelphia International. I knew she loved the hell out of Rico, in her own way, but was it cause for her to go crazy? She was cool for a while, but it seemed like old crazy and deranged was showing back up, and before any moves were made I had to be sure.

“It was definitely her,” the voice responded. “I wasn't too sure myself, but when I saw her getting out of a car at her old crib and talking to some people who lived there I snapped a few pics just to be sure.”

“Send them over, and I'll check them out. Who was she talking to?”

“I don't know. Some bitch was outside with her kid. I wasn't sure if she knew the chick, but she went into the house so she had to. I followed her after she came out, and got flicks of the car she's pushing also. Sheneka might actually be on point this time.”

“Okay. We won't make any moves yet, just be ready when I give the word.”

“No problem.”

And the call was disconnected. A minute or so later my phone buzzed, indicating I had a picture message, and sure enough Monica's ass was back in Philly. She was still fine as hell, too. Even better than I last remembered. Wherever she went to must have been a good move because she was on point. I scrolled through the shots of her and the car, quickly realizing that she had a rental. She definitely wasn't here to stay, so what brought her back?

I also noticed that she was by herself, and last I remembered she had just pushed out a kid. Where was the baby? And where was that fine-ass sister of hers? I had plenty of questions, and I knew Sheneka would have plenty more, so I held off on hitting her up right now. I didn't feel like the bullshit with her today.

Rolling over, I signaled for the young buck I had lying next to me to handle her business. Without having to say a word, she gave up the best head service ever. I almost couldn't concentrate, but ol' girl was handling her business. I knew I had to get some answers from Monica, because I was still not convinced that Rico killed himself. He definitely wouldn't have gone out like that, but who did it and why? Questions, and more confusion . . . First thing I needed to do was find out where she was resting her head, and then I would find out why she was here.

I didn't really feel like dealing with the shit right now though, but my head was definitely spinning, and Monica was going to get hers. For right now . . . I'd just enjoy this blessing, and as I gripped the back of the young girl's head I let my mind relax and my body surrender to the feeling of excellent head service.

I told that fool that I saw Monica's trick ass. I was pissed that I even had to go through all the hoops to get Carlos's dumb ass on board. Okay, so a few times I was off the mark, but I was sure this time. I was just waiting on him to call me back to confirm. I wished for a second I was allowed to carry a cell phone because I could have taken a picture of her. The program I was in didn't allow us to have phones, and we had a curfew on top of that! I didn't want to get fired for abandoning my job, so I couldn't follow her out of the building. It's cool though, because I straight used the job phone to hit Carlos on his jack. I wanted Monica's head, and I wasn't stopping until I had it.

Yeah, after all this time I was still upset about Rico's death. Who are you to judge me? I really loved him, in spite of what everyone chose to believe. Yeah, I let Carlos and a few of his other homeboys sample the goods a few times, but that was just revenge when Rico pissed me off. It wasn't that serious for me. I thought we were good, me and Rico. We had a really bad argument and I told that fool to step, but I didn't know Monica was going to swoop in like she did. Put me on ten every time I thought about it!

What pissed me off the most was how fast she had this fool open!
Like, for real, Rico?
I knew that bitch pussy wasn't better than mine, and he was out here acting like he just hit the fucking jackpot! Holding hands in public and everything! Oooohhhh, I was pissed! This dizzy bitch had the stash spot on lock and everything. By the time we got there it wasn't a damn dime or jewel left, and since it was all drug money it wasn't like we could report the shit stolen. Oh, how I hate a bitch more scandalous than me.

Before I could even visit him word on the street was somebody got the drop on Rico. The word was that he was found dangling from the top bunk with a broken neck or some shit like that, but Rico would have never just killed himself. That wasn't how he got down, and I wasn't even believing that shit. That bitch got him murked . . . That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I wanted to kick that bastard of a child out her gut through her damn nose, but I could never catch up with her slick ass. Besides, regardless of how crazy my ass was, the baby had nothing to do with it. I just wanted her. Before I could get a hold of her she had jumped ship, and I didn't know where to find her. I was patient though, and I knew she would show her face eventually. A few false alarms had me ready to get shit poppin' on complete strangers, and that's when I knew I needed to lay my ass down on a couch somewhere and talk to a shrink. Yeah, they tried to convince me that what I was feeling was connected to some random childhood incident, but I wasn't buying that bullshit with the last dollar to my name. She fucked up my life, I wanted revenge, and no matter how long it took I was going to be on her ass.
Oh, it took about four years, but lo and behold the bitch is back . . . and I'm ready for her ass!