So You Call Yourself a Man (20 page)

“I'm going to do it, Alison. There's no turning back now.” I stood up and headed for the door. “I'm going to sleep in the guestroom, and I'll be gone in the morning.”

Alison called after me before I left. “So you call yourself a man?”

I didn't reply, but I wasn't really sure if I could.

“Daddy, Daddy, throw it to me!” my oldest son, James Jr., was yelling as I jogged with the football. His younger brother, Michael, was chasing behind me, grabbing at my knees to try to knock me over onto the grass and capture the ball. Marcus sat on a blanket near the edge of the yard, laughing and clapping as he watched us play.

This, to me, was pure heaven. All three of my boys were there with me, and everyone was happy…until Cathy stormed into the yard and grabbed the two oldest boys.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” she screamed, holding them tight against her body. “I didn't tell you that you could come over here and see the boys.”

Both boys looked at her in bewilderment. They were too young to understand what was wrong. Before she came, this had been a great day for all of us, a reunion after being separated for way too long. Now their mother was yelling like we'd been caught doing something criminal. My heart ached for them and the confusion I knew they must be experiencing.

“Cathy, we were just playing football,” I said. “I just wanted to see my boys.”

She took a few steps backward, pulling my sons farther away from me. “That's too damn bad, James. You should have thought of your boys before you went and had another son with some other b—” She stopped herself before she cursed in front of the boys.

As she pulled them across the yard, James Jr. looked at me, then at Marcus, then back at me. Michael was still too young to understand what was happening, but I could see the wheels turning in my oldest son's head. He was starting to understand what his mother had accused me of, and he didn't look too happy now. I cursed myself under my breath. I should have had the guts to tell them myself that Marcus was their little brother. I should have been a man about it. Now, James Jr. had heard the news during his mother's outburst, so Marcus, even if they grew to accept him as a brother, would always be a reminder of Cathy's pain at this moment.

I wanted to chase after Cathy and pull the boys out of her grasp. I wanted to sit down with them and find a way to explain this whole thing. It was important that they knew that I never meant to hurt their mother, and that I still wanted us to be a family. But my legs wouldn't let me move. It was as if the grass had grown in a tangle around my ankles and was holding me in place as I watched my sons disappear.

I felt Marcus poking me now. “Daddy?” he said quietly. I was still frozen, and I couldn't even open my mouth to answer him. He just kept poking my ribs and calling my name until finally, my eyes popped open and I realized where I was.

I was in the guest bedroom in my mother's house, where I'd been for over a month now. She'd finally let me move off the couch when she came to terms with the idea that it would be an extended stay. Of course, she was still dropping hints and making suggestions every day about how I should go about getting my family back, but it was nothing I hadn't been thinking about myself.

Every night I would have dreams about going to see Cathy to work out a solution, but this was the first time my sons were there too. The image of their faces was still fresh in my mind, and I had to wipe away a single tear before I turned to look at Marcus, who'd been sleeping next to me.

“Hey, Marcus,” I said, trying to sound much more cheerful than I felt. “How are you, little man?”

He asked the same question I heard every morning as soon as we woke up: “Daddy, can I go see my Mommy today?”

And every morning, I had to give him the same answer. I had concocted a story about how his mother just went on a little vacation. She would call us whenever she came back, I promised, and then we could go see her together.

“And then I can stay with her?” he would ask, and I could only give him a halfhearted smile as I answered, “We'll see, okay?” The conversation was the same every morning, and each time, I would find a way to distract him as quickly as possible so that I could stop lying to him.

This time, I asked, “Hey, you wanna go in the kitchen and see what kind of cereal we have?”

“Okay,” he said, still sounding sleepy.

I took his hand and helped him climb out of bed, then guided him to the kitchen cabinets, where we examined the choices. There were plenty of boxes to choose from, courtesy of my mother. Once she heard about Michelle's decision to abandon Marcus for Trent, she resigned herself to the fact that we were going to be with her for a while. Although she acted like it was a great inconvenience for her, the shelves were overstuffed with treats for a child, which told me that she wouldn't have had it any other way. She knew Marcus was suffering from his mother's absence, and she wasn't about to add to that pain by rejecting him too.

I felt the same way, which was why I was still here with him. The possibility of contacting social services and finding a placement for him had crossed my mind a few times, but it always left me feeling ashamed to have even considered it. I would keep Marcus as long as I had to, even if I still hoped that someday his mother would want him back.

As I watched him eat the bowl of sugary cereal he had chosen, I thought about my other sons. I wondered if they felt abandoned by me. Did they miss me the way Marcus missed Michelle? I had no idea what Cathy had told them about my sudden absence. They were a little too old to believe the story of the “little vacation” I'd used on Marcus, but I hoped she'd come up with another believable story. The only other alternative was to tell them the truth, that she'd kicked me out when she found out I had a baby with another woman. Just like in my dream, I had a sudden urge to speak to them, to explain my side of the story before they heard their mother's version and decided I was a monster.

After I got Marcus settled in the living room with his toys, I went to the phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen. I picked up the receiver and stared at it, wondering if I could really gather the courage to make the call. I'd only tried to call once before, but hung up before anyone answered at my house. I wasn't ready then to face the conversation where I had to tell Cathy that Marcus was still with me, and he would be indefinitely. If he was gone, I would have begged her to let me come home. Now I knew going home was out of the question. I missed my sons terribly, though, so this time I was going to stay on the line until Cathy answered. What I would say to her remained to be seen, but I had to get her to let me see the boys.

When I heard Cathy's voice, I couldn't speak. My heart raced and my palms were sweating, but I couldn't make my mouth form a word.

“I know it's you, James.” Somehow, she managed to say my name in a way that made it sound like some sort of infectious disease. “Your mother's number comes up on the caller ID, you know.” She waited for an answer, and when I remained silent, she said, “Oh well, guess you're too much of a coward to speak, so I'm gonna hang up the phone now. Have a nice li—”

“No!” I shouted, finally finding my voice. “Please don't hang up. I…I really want to talk to you.”

“Hmmm…let's see. Are you calling to talk about when you're going to send me some child support? 'Cause if you're not, then I don't think there's anything we have to talk about.”

“Cathy, please don't be like that.”

“Like what? Like a woman who's pissed off because she found out that her husband is a fuckin' cheat and a liar? Like a woman who just found out her husband has another family?”

I tried to protest. “We're not a family.”

“Oh, really? Well, what do you call it when you have a mommy, a daddy, and a baby?” I could just picture the way her face was twisted up, her eyebrows raised as she demanded answers from me.

“We are not a family,” I repeated. “I probably won't ever speak to Michelle again.”

“Don't fool yourself. She's your baby mama now. You have to deal with that woman for the next eighteen years. I, on the other hand, will be happy to never speak to you again. You can just mail me my checks.”

“No,” I said quietly, “I might never speak to her again because she left Marcus with me. She doesn't want him back.”

Cathy was quiet for a minute. I expected her to yell, but when she finally spoke, it was slowly and practically in a whisper. “Did you just tell me she left her child?”

“Yes,” was all I managed to say.

“What kind of ghetto trash were you messing with? What kind of mother abandons her child?”

We were both quiet, and when I could no longer stand the silence, I said, “I want to see the boys.”

“Why?” she asked in an icy voice. “You have one son with you, so why would you need to see
my
boys?”

“Come on, Cathy. You know that's not right. I need to speak to them. I want them to understand why I haven't been around. That I love them.” I waited a few seconds before asking the question that I was afraid to hear answered. “Do they hate me?”

“No, James,” she said with a sigh, “they miss you.”

I couldn't suppress the smile that came across my face. It was such a relief to hear there might still be some hope for my relationship with my boys, though I had serious doubts about any possible future for me and Cathy.

“They don't hate you,” she continued, “because they don't know like I do who you really are.”

This took me by surprise. “You haven't told them anything?”

“No. I'll leave that up to you. You're the one who fucked up and had a child outside our marriage, so you should be the one who has to look into their eyes and watch their hearts break when you tell them what you did.”

As scary as it was to imagine admitting my failings to my boys, I was relieved that Cathy hadn't poisoned them against me. “When can I see them?” I asked with a mixture of excitement and dread.

“You can see them this afternoon, if you want. But I have two conditions.”

“What are they?”

She laid down her rules. “One, you can't stay here with them. You'll have to take them out somewhere, because I don't think I can stand the sight of you right now. And two, you can't bring your
other
child with you. Maybe in the future, but this time is for them.”

Poor Marcus, he was so young and innocent, yet it was clear that Cathy hated even the thought of his existence. Still, I could understand her point. I would have to talk my mother into watching him while I went to see my two oldest boys.

“No problem, Cathy. I just really need to see them. I can't tell you how much I miss them,” I said.

“Mm-hmm,” she said with skepticism. “Like I said before, it's too bad you didn't think of that before you got that bitch pregnant.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling defenseless. “I'll be by this afternoon, but I'm going to tell them about Marcus.”

“Uh-huh,” she said with as little interest as possible. “Oh, and James…”

“Yeah?” I asked, hoping she might say something to give me even a glimmer of hope for our marriage.

“Bring me a check when you come. I've got some overdue bills to pay.”

The next day, when I caught my plane to San Francisco, my mind was made up. I couldn't live without Jackie. At the same time, I was still shamed that Alison had caught us together in our house, and that I couldn't make our marriage work, but in a way, I was relieved. The question was, how would we be received? What would people think? Neither one of us fit the profile of a flaming gay guy. For one, we were both very masculine and clean cut. We were both prominent members of the church. Would this change how people viewed us? I definitely think it would.

Why couldn't life be simple? Why couldn't Jackie be Alison, where I would get all the backing from the church? And, come to think of it, what would people say about me leaving my pregnant wife? I knew they were going to say there was something depraved about what Jackie and I had, but I'd never felt so clean. It all felt so right for me now. I couldn't help it. I loved Jackie. He made me feel complete.

After I attended my business meetings, I went to my hotel. I needed time to do some soul searching. My whole life was getting ready to change. I still hadn't talked to Sonny or James to let them know what was going down, although I did leave voicemail messages that it was important that they come to church on Sunday. As soon as I unpacked, my hotel room phone rang. It was Jackie. “Hey, baby.” His voice wavered and he sounded uncertain.

“Hey, Jackie. I guess you got my message.”

I heard Jackie draw a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, I got it, and I just wanted to make sure you made it safely.”

“I'm fine. When I get back we need to talk.”

“I guess it's over with Alison.” Jackie sounded hopeful.

“Yeah, it is. I can't pretend anymore. I'm going to announce that I'm gay at church on Sunday.”

“Do you want me to be there with you? So we can go as a couple?”

“I sure do.”

“Well, I'll be there waiting for you. Sunday's as good a day as ever to come out of the closet.”

 

I was lying on the bed in my hotel room, replaying my last conversation with Jackie over and over in my mind. I had reached the point where I was ready to leave Alison and be in a relationship with Jackie, but would I be able to go through with announcing our homosexual love to our church congregation as I promised? So much had happened in my life so quickly, I was actually glad for the chance to be in San Francisco, away from everyone, while I tried to put it all in perspective. I grew tired as I lay in the room, my emotions running the entire spectrum, from elation over a budding relationship with the man I loved to grief over the loss of my friendship with Alison, and the relationship I might never be allowed to develop with my unborn child. When I could no longer stand the thoughts swirling around in my head, I decided to go get something to eat. I hoped that sitting outside at a café and taking in the sights of this beautiful city would be enough of a distraction to make me forget everything for a while.

I headed across the street to the Harbor Café, where I ordered a sandwich and a coffee, then carried my tray to the outdoor dining section. When I sat down and unwrapped my sandwich, I looked around at the other diners, some of whom were obviously gay, wondering if any of them had problems as serious as mine were. That's when I spotted a familiar face. She resembled Alicia Keys, and although we were never really that close, I'd recognize that face anywhere. I thought that perhaps talking to her might divert my thoughts for a while. I got up, gathered my meal onto the tray again, and approached her table.

“Jessica?” I looked down at Sonny's wife, or ex-wife, or whatever she was now. He hadn't mentioned getting any divorce papers, but the last time I talked to him, he told me things with Tiffany were great and he was planning on asking her to marry him soon. I assumed this meant he had moved on with his life. I wondered if Jessica had too.

“How are you?” I asked casually, though in my mind I was conjuring up a million more questions about what she'd done to my boy Sonny.

Apparently she wasn't in the mood to engage in small talk, though, and got right to the point. “Brent…” she said quietly, looking at me through glasses so dark I couldn't see her eyes. “Please don't tell Sonny you saw me here.”

I wondered why she sounded so nervous and her hands were trembling. Now she had my curiosity aroused. I wanted to ask some questions, but obviously she wasn't going to talk to me unless I assured her I wouldn't tell anyone.

“Sonny doesn't even know I'm here, but I'm sure he'd love to know where you're at, considering you kidnapped his kids. Besides, he's been a little preoccupied lately, so I don't get much chance to talk to him.”

“I did not kidnap his kids—I saved them from him. And what do you mean, preoccupied? He hasn't been trying to find me, has he?” she asked, obviously jealous.

“No,” I answered, unable to resist a jab at this woman who had broken my friend's heart. “He's moved on with his life, Jessica. He met a really great woman, and they're living together now.”

“He's got another woman? Oh, thank God.” I was surprised by her interest in Sonny's dating habits. I would have guessed it was jealousy, except that she actually looked happy when I told her Sonny had another woman in his life.

“Yeah. So, can I sit down?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She gestured to the chair next to her. I sat down and unwrapped my sandwich again.

“So, who's this woman Sonny is with now?” Yeah, she could pretend to be relieved, but she was jealous.

“Her name is Tiffany. It's someone he went to high school with.”

“Didn't he used to date someone named Tiffany?”

“Yeah. It's the same woman,” I said, even more surprised by her constant questions. “Jessica, can I ask you something?”

She looked uncomfortable. “I suppose, but I can't promise I'll answer you.”

“Well, why are you so interested in Sonny now that he has another woman? Could you possibly be feeling guilty for leaving him the way you did?” I asked, hoping I hadn't overstepped my bounds. I wanted to get as much information as possible because I knew that Sonny would want to know as much as possible. To my surprise, she answered it, but in a strange way.

“If I know that Sonny is with someone else, then I can be a little less scared that he might be trying to hunt me down.”

I was taken aback by her choice of words. “Hunt you down? Sure, you broke his heart, but I wouldn't say it was as serious as all that. As a matter of fact, he seemed to get with Tiffany pretty soon after he came back from Seattle.” Now that I thought about it, Sonny did bounce back quicker than I would think any man would be able to. Either he was an incredibly strong person, or he was still dealing with some unresolved issues. The only thing that was strange, now that I considered it, was that I'd never heard Sonny mention missing his kids. It was like Jessica and the kids disappeared, so he just plugged another family into the empty slots.

“Let me ask you a question, Brent. What did Sonny tell you was my reason for leaving him?”

“Well, he hasn't really talked about it much, but he said he thought you had another man.”

“And he hasn't been talking about coming to find me?”

“Not that I've heard. Like I said, he hooked up with Tiffany pretty quick.”

She rested her elbows on the table and said sadly, “Whoever this woman is, I want you to get a message to her. Tell her to get away from him as soon as she possibly can and don't stop running until she's in another state.”

That was wrong of her, as far as I was concerned. She left the guy, and now she wanted to make sure he stayed lonely forever, I guess. I had to speak my mind. “You know, Jessica, that's pretty messed up. I don't know what your reason was for abandoning him and taking away his kids, but it's just not right for you to try to get in between him and his new woman now. Can't you just let the guy have some happiness?”

“Why, he never let me have any happiness. You don't know why I left him….” she said, her voice fading away. Her hands started to shake again as she raised them toward the dark sunglasses she'd been wearing. “This is why I left Sonny.” She removed her glasses, revealing a recently healed wound that traveled from the corner of one eye, across her brow, and ended over the bridge of her nose. It appeared to have needed stitches, and would definitely leave a scar above her eyelid, which drooped lazily over what were once striking hazel eyes. Now they looked frightened and sad.

“He did this to you?” I asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

She nodded. “It's taken almost five months to heal. I've got plenty of other scars from places he's hit me, kicked me, bit me. One time, he broke three of my ribs with a bat.”

I was stunned. Could we really be talking about the same guy? Sonny was always talking about his family; he seemed so devoted to them. It was hard to imagine him hurting someone he seemed to love so much. I wondered if maybe she was just making this up. After all, she'd only shown me a scar on her face, and all I had to go on was her version of events. For all I knew, the cut over her eye was caused by some accident unrelated to Sonny. I didn't want to believe he was capable of this. Maybe if I kept asking questions I'd catch her in some sort of lie.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started almost as soon as we got married,” she said, putting her sunglasses on again. That's when I noticed a few small, circular scars on the back of one hand.
Could they be cigarette burns?
I wondered. “In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. Once we moved out to Seattle, though, things just kept escalating. He had this set of rules that I had to live by, and if I broke one of the rules I had to be punished.” Now that I thought about it, Sonny always said you had to have rules if a marriage was going to work. I just never thought he meant that so literally.

“Why didn't you leave him sooner?” This seemed to be an obvious question. If things were really as bad as she was saying, why wouldn't she have gotten out?

“That's not as easy as it sounds. Once we moved to the West Coast, I was basically a prisoner. He wouldn't let me work. He wouldn't give me any money unless I went to the store with him. He'd go through my purse. At first he made me account for my every minute out of his sight in a journal, and then he just stopped letting me out of his sight altogether. Why do you think he lost his job? It got so bad that he started locking me in the closet whenever he was going out. Even if I wanted to run, where was I supposed to go? I didn't know anyone in Seattle. I didn't have a car that I could just hop into and get away. If he hadn't left for New York for your wedding, I might have been dead by now.”

“But if he wasn't letting you out of his sight, why would he travel all the way to New York without you?” I asked.

She pointed to her sunglasses. “The week before the wedding is when he gave me this scar. We were supposed to go with him, but he couldn't exactly bring me to your wedding with stitches all over my face.”

This story was so contrary to the picture Sonny had painted of his perfect family life in Seattle. “Jessica, Sonny told me things were great with his family, and now you're telling me all this. How could your two versions be so different?” I asked, still grasping at the hope that her story was false.

“I don't expect you to believe me. I know you never liked me, Brent. Sonny made it perfectly clear that you and James always thought I was bad for him. I know he never defended me when you guys would talk bad about me, because that was exactly how he wanted it to be.”

I didn't respond, mostly because I was embarrassed by how right she was. James, Sonny, and I had spent plenty of nights discussing Jessica, and he really hadn't put much effort into changing our opinions of her. In fact, we'd never really had much contact with Jessica, so our opinions of her were based on things he would tell us about her.

“Yeah, it was perfect that you two didn't like me enough to want to come visit us in Seattle. In fact, I bet he never invited you, did he?”

“No, but I just assumed—”

“You assumed that it was because I didn't like you,” she said, and she was correct. “But the truth is, he couldn't let you guys come to Seattle to see what was really happening in our home. No one was ever allowed in our house. The kids weren't even allowed to have friends over.”

“Okay,” I said, trying not to sound confrontational, though I was still looking to poke holes in her story. “If he wanted to keep you away from us, then why was he planning to move you back to New York?”

“I don't really know,” she answered. “I suppose he just really missed you guys. His abuse had gotten so out of control, maybe he just lost touch with reality. He might have really convinced himself that he could hide me away even if you and James lived close by. Who knows? Maybe he planned on killing me once he got us there. All I know is that I was sure it was my only chance at freedom, so I told him the move was a great idea. As soon as he left for your wedding, I started packing everything.”

“How are the kids? Are they here with you?”

“I don't wanna talk about them,” she said firmly. “I know Sonny's your boy, and I can't risk letting you give him any information. I can't even be sure that you won't tell him about this.”

She sounded so scared. I wanted to be able to assure her that I wouldn't give her up to Sonny, but I couldn't. After everything she had told me, I had a lot to process. Her story was so far from the image I had of my friend and his marriage that it was hard to believe it could be true. Still, she didn't seem to be faking the fearful state she was in. And now that I'd mentioned her kids, she began fidgeting in her chair, until she finally stood up.

“I know he's your friend, and I don't expect you to make me any promises. All I can do is ask you not to mention to Sonny that you saw me here. And now that you have, I'll probably be moving again anyway.” She turned to leave. “But if you give some thought to everything I've told you, I bet you'll realize that your friend is capable of this.”