Authors: Sasha Campbell

Suspicions (10 page)

BOOK: Suspicions

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“None of your business. Now get the hell outta here.” I needed to get him out fast. The last thing I needed was for that crazy fool to know I was seeing someone else, because there was no telling how he was going to act. I wasn't afraid of Tyree, but the last thing I needed was a scene.

Tyree moved into the living room and took a seat on my couch. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” I glanced over at the clock on the end table. Tyree did, too, like he already knew what I was up to.

“I told you before, I want to talk about us.”

“There is no us. Now go.” Just in case he didn't believe I was serious, I moved to the front door and held it open. It was at that exact moment I spotted my date coming up the steps. “Oh shit!” I mumbled. I glanced from left to right. This was not at all how to start a first date.

Deon took one look at me and smiled. “Wow! You must be Candace.”

He moved to the door looking every bit as fine as his picture. Not as good-looking at Chauncey, but gorgeous in a classier kinda way.

“And you must be Deon.” I smiled at him, but it was short-lived. Tyree picked that moment to jump off the couch and move to the door like he was ready to start something. “This is my daughter's father and he was just leaving.” I tried to push Tyree out into the hall, but he wouldn't budge. He just stood there inside the door mean-mugging my date.

“What's he doing here?” Tyree hissed, and moved beside me like we were a couple and this was our place together. I stepped away from him.

“Not that it's any of your business, but we're going out tonight.” I smiled over at Deon and pulled him inside my apartment. “You need to leave.” I was practically pleading with my eyes for him to get the hell out, but Tyree wasn't paying me any attention. He was too busy staring at Deon. I'll give it to med student, he was holding his own and didn't look like he was about to run off with his tail between his legs, like some of them other punks I had dated. “Tyree, I'll talk to you later.”

“I ain't going nowhere.” He took a step forward like he was about to get in Deon's face. I stepped between them, then pushed Tyree hard against the chest.

“I said get out! Don't make me call the police.” As soon as he heard me mention the po-po he came to his senses and stepped out the door.

“Candy, we're gonna talk about this later.”

I rolled my eyes at him, then slammed the door in his face. Immediately, I put a smile on and swung around to face my date. “Sorry about that.” I spent the next minute trying to apologize. Deon yawned like he was suddenly bored and then had the nerve to scroll through his BlackBerry.
No, he ain't ignoring me.

“You accept my apology?” I asked, then struck a sexy pose, sticking my twins out so he wouldn't miss the cleavage. Unfortunately, he didn't look at all interested.

“Listen . . . I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work.”

Ewww! Was that his breath? I sure in the hell hoped not. “Why's that? I told you I was sorry about my baby daddy's behavior.”

Deon gave an amused laugh. Damn! That
was
his breath. “See, that's the problem. I can't do the baby daddy thing. That's just too much drama for me. I also noticed that disconnection notice sitting there on your coffee table. I'm a struggling medical student, so I need someone to help me pay my bills and it's obvious that you can't even pay your own.”

No the fuck he didn't.

“Thanks for wasting my time.” Then Deon shook his head the way Papa did when he was disappointed in me.

I was tempted to pick up my phone and tell Tyree to come back and beat his ass; instead, I brought my hand over my nose. “Actually, Deon, you saved me from wasting my evening with some fool with stank breath.” When he first came to the door, I thought that smell was Ms. Bridges across the hall, cooking a pot of chitlins, but now that he was standing in my apartment, I knew for a fact that was the dude's breath. “What you need to do is invest in some Altoids, because with breath like that, ain't no woman going to be interested in taking care of your narrow ass no matter how much money you have the potential to make.” He opened his mouth, prepared to say something, but I held up a hand, cutting him off. “Trust and believe, if you were worth anything, your aunt wouldn't be wasting time trying to hook someone up with you and your tart breath. Now, get the hell outta my house so I can go grab a can of Lysol because you funked up my place.”

As soon as I slammed the door, I went into the kitchen and reached under the sink for the can and sprayed the whole apartment. I was so pissed because instead of wasting my time with halitosis, I could have spent the evening with Chauncey.

I went to my room, changed out of my clothes, then put my pride aside and reached for the phone.

Noelle

“Hey Mom. What's up?”

What's up is that it took a week for Scott to return my call. Here I've been pulling out my hair, and had even pissed Grant off a few times.

After Grant's weird behavior about the baby, he had me thinking, and I couldn't help it, but I started acting suspicious. Smelling his underwear. Checking the incoming calls on his cell phone while he was asleep. I even went online and logged in to his cellular phone account and scrolled through his bills for the last six months, looking for any numbers that looked out of the ordinary. I was particularly looking for one that would have come from the hospital on the labor and delivery floor, on or about two months ago. Unfortunately, Grant just so happened to walk in and caught me, and I had to justify my actions by lying and telling him I was checking his telephone bill averages to see if maybe it was time for us to switch to another wireless company. Naturally, he wasn't buying it. Well, I had no choice but to start an argument about him not trusting me, and with the way he'd been behaving lately, if anyone should be suspicious it should be me. You better believe I reminded him that I wasn't the one hanging out at the bars and too tired for sex. I then stormed off and slammed the door. He had sense enough to come find me lying on the couch and apologize.

“What the hell took you so long to call me back?” I barked in the phone. “I've been calling you all week leaving messages. For all you knew, someone could have died!” Like his father, for instance, if I found out he had been messing around on me.

“I thought you were just calling to check up on me. Mom, I've told you before if you need to talk to me right away just send me a text message.”

I don't know what it is with kids and the need to text all damn day. Whatever happened to two people having a phone conversation?

“How's Dad?”

That depends on how you answer my question.
“He's fine. Everyone's fine. Can't a mother just call and see how her son is doing at college?” It was his first year away from home, and it was hard not having my baby around. “By the way . . . I was in the grocery store the other day and ran into Alissa's mother. Whatever happened to you and Alissa?” They had dated for almost a year. I hadn't really run into her mother, but it was the best I could come up with.

“She broke up with me for some nerd,” he replied with a rude snort in the phone.

“Hmmm . . . I thought that was the reason you broke up with Teresa?”

“No, we didn't have anything in common. I stopped dating her and started seeing Clarice, remember?”

Clarice. How could I have forgotten about her? Quickly, I checked my memory bank. That relationship would have been about . . . thirteen months ago. “How's she doing?”

“I don't know. I haven't talked to her since I left for school. Look, Mom, several of us are getting ready to go to this coffee shop so I'llâ”

I cut him off with a huff. “Before you hang up, answer one question for me. Do you have a child I know nothing about?” There, I said it.

Scott sputtered with laughter. “What did you just say?”

Did I stutter?
“You heard me. Did you get one of those chicks pregnant?”

“Hey . . . I'm sure anything is possible,” he replied.

“This isn't funny!” I snapped. I hated raising my voice to my son, always have; but he was testing me and today was not the day.

He was laughing now. “Mom, if I had a baby, I don't know anything about it. Why you ask?”

“Because someone dropped a baby off on my doorstep.”

He was quiet. “Uhhhh . . . if that chick Aisha says her baby's mine, she's lying.”

“Aisha? Who's Aisha?” There were so many I couldn't keep up.

“Uh . . . this chick I was banging my senior year.”

I hated the way he talked to me like I was one of his friends. Reminding Scott how I felt was a waste of time. I know what the problem was. I spoiled him too much. Always tried to make sure my son never went without. Never made his rotten ass work for nothing, and now I was paying for it. Nobody's fault but my own. I couldn't even blame Grant, because every time he tried to pull off his belt to discipline Scott, I had come to his defense. After a while Scott knew whenever he wanted his way, all he had to do was run to me for help, which was why I couldn't understand why he hadn't bothered to tell me he had gotten some girl in trouble. We've always talked about everything, including the first time he had sex.

“Did Aisha have a baby?”

“Well . . . yeah, but it ain't mine. It's some other dude's,” he said defensively. He sounded like a kid who had gotten caught bringing a copy of
Playboy
to school.

“Some other dude's?” I'm sad to say this, but it sounded like Scott had no intention of taking responsibility for his actions. “Did you use a condom?”

“Uhhhh . . . well, no.”

Dummy
. How many times did I hear his father talk to him about strapping up and protecting himself? “Scott . . . it only takes one time to make a baby.”

“I know, but that baby don't look nothing like me!” he said on the defense.

“Well, guess what? I think the baby looks a whole helluva lot like you.”

“That's not my baby.”

“Scott, a mother knows her children and I know who that baby belongs to, and that's you.” He was quiet. “Aren't you going to say something?”

“No, because you're not going to believe anything I say anyway, so what's the point.” He blew out a long breath. I hated when he pouted. “So what she do, bring the baby over and tell you it's mine?”

“Of course not, that would have been too easy. She did exactly what I said she did, she
left
the baby sitting in a car seat on the doorstep.” It still upset me every time I thought about that little girl sitting out on that porch waiting in the hot sun for someone to find her. What if we hadn't come home that night?

“I'm not surprised. Some women just ain't meant to be parents.”

“That same rule applies to men. You and her are too young and immature. I just wish you had talked to your father and I and saved me all that unnecessary stress. I've been a basket case all week.” Snooping around in Grant's car, and did I mention I sniffed his draws? I even checked his credit card receipts. I had been so paranoid this week, it was a wonder he was still talking to me.

“So what are you planning to do with the baby?” Scott asked, breaking in to my thoughts.

I shook my head. “Right now the baby is with me, but I really don't know what I'm going to do, considering your dad is pissed off about the whole thing.” I sighed and forced myself to remain calm before I got myself all upset again. As much as I have grown to love Sierra in just a few days, her presence in my household was causing a strain on my marriage. Especially after I told Grant we needed to postpone our vacation until the mess was straightened out. He literally hit the roof.“I think the three of us should sit down and talk. In the meantime, tell me where this girl lives so I can go by and talk to her mother.”

Scott hesitated. I was a second away from snapping on him when he finally spoke. “She lives in the Altgeld Gardens.”

Altgeld Gardens?
What the hell was he doing in the projects messing with some low-income chick? I busted my ass so my son would have a good life, a college education, then meet a nice woman and settle down. Instead, he headed straight to the neighborhood I ran away from and found him a chick who apparently had no plans of raising her own child.

“You need to come home next weekend.”

“Okay,” he replied, although it was apparent he wasn't happy about the idea. Well, too damn bad. I should have followed my first mind and made him spend the first part of the summer at home until football camp started, but no, I let him beg me into allowing him to take English over the summer so he could go ahead and move on campus early. Now I know it was just an excuse to run away from his problems, mainly, Sierra.

“Your butt better be here next weekend, or else . . .” I hung up, too angry to say anything further. Grant had been right all along. I babied that kid and to think I almost jeopardized my marriage, treating Grant like he was guilty of something my son had done. Sierra was my granddaughter, not my husband's love child. I mumbled under my breath, cussing out Whitney for even thinking that Grant would ever do anything like that to me.

I looked down at my watched and realized it was time for me to go and pick up Sierra from Ms. Santiago's home daycare. Thank goodness I was able to find someone at such short notice, but even still, daycare was expensive. Here I was spending a hundred dollars a week for child care, when Sierra's mother was probably at home laid out on the couch watching soap operas while collecting a check. I also know she had to be getting food stamps. She wanted the money, but not the responsibility.
Well, you got the wrong one, baby
. Daycare isn't cheap and neither is formula.

After I picked up Sierra, I headed toward the Bishop Ford Freeway to the address Scott gave me. Altgeld Gardens. Block 5. The same street where my grandmother lived until she passed away. After she was gone I had no reason to return to a poverty-stricken housing development that was far away from everything. We used to have to walk almost two miles just to go to the convenience store. It was a life that I'd rather forget. Thanks to Scott, I was back.

As I drew near 130th Street and Michigan Avenue, the main entrance into the development, I started to think that maybe I should have waited until Scott got home and we went over together. This was definitely not a place I wanted to be after dark. Besides, it was his child. He should be tracking down Sierra's mother, not me. But then again, he was too self-centered to do the right thing. He probably would make things worse and she'll be trying to take his narrow behind to court for child support. Nope. I was doing the right thing, going alone. Me and Sierra's mama was going to have a long talk. Don't get me wrong; I don't have a problem being a grandma and helping to raise my granddaughter, but Sierra's mother needed to learn something about responsibilities that her own mother obviously hadn't bothered to teach her. Based on the environment where she lived, she and the mother both were too busy hanging in the streets to take the time to raise a child.

That place was like a damn maze. I passed the housing unit twice before I realized I had the right address. It was a little misleading with that brand-new BMW parked out front. Luckily, I was able to park close to the door. Since I had no intention of going inside, I lowered the rear windows. Sierra was in her car seat sound asleep. I made sure the sun wasn't in her eyes, then moved up to the front door of the unit and knocked.

“Someone answer the got damn door!” I heard someone on the other side of the door scream. Goodness, was this the type of environment my granddaughter had to live in? I was tempted to just leave and pretend I didn't know where Sierra had come from, instead of returning her to this ghetto mess. Just thinking about her, I glanced over at the car making sure she was okay. I could see Sierra from where I was standing and she was fine.

I heard a lock turn and then the door swung open. There stood a big woman, wearing a pink rag tied around her head and beat-up house slippers on her feet. She turned up her nose and looked me up and down. “Can I help you?” From the look on her face, what she really wanted to say was, “What the hell you want?”

I painted on a fake smile. “Hello, I'm Noelle Gordon. Are you Aisha's mother?” I hoped like hell she said no.

“It depends. What she do now?” she said with attitude.

She looked like she was ready for me to say one wrong word so she could dust the front stoop with my ass. I've never backed down from a fight, but this chick was big like an Amazon and a rhino combined. She had broad shoulders, titties for days, and wide hips. I might be a big girl, but this chick had me beat. “I think my son is the father of Aisha's baby.”

She pushed the screen door open so fast I jumped out the way. “Oh yeah? So your son's the little muthafucka who got her pregnant, then left for college?”

She better check herself. Like I said, I'm not scared, but I didn't come here for that. I came to talk. One parent with another. “Let's not start pointing the blame because it does take two to make a baby.”

She gave me a nasty look. “The only thing my daughter is guilty of is trusting your son. Aisha told 'im she was knocked up and he refused to claim my grandbaby.” Her hands were at her hips and her head was bobbing around on her thick neck.

“Listen, I didn't come here to argue.”

She folded her arms. “Then why did you come?”

“To talk to your daughter about my grandchild,” I said as calmly as possible.

She glanced over at my car. “Why isn't your son here?”

BOOK: Suspicions

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