Torn (32 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Torn
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"Did you really ... put him in Heaven's bed?" Mo squinted her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"Are you tryin' to drive me crazy? First you cheat on me

... then you get this bitch pregnant? And on top of that you got this baby that look just like you in my daughter's bed? Are you really tryin' to kill me?"

"Where was he supposed to sleep, Mo?"

"All them fuckin' trees outside and you couldn't pick one!

Put that nigga on top of the Arch and let 'em slide down! I don't give a fuck! But he ain't sleepin' up in here!"

"You fuckin' trippin'." Quan shook his head.

"No, you're trippin'! You better get that nigga a cot! Hell, rent a fuckin' hotel room if you want to, but he got to go! I can't deal with this bullshit!"

"Let me get up outta here 'cause you trippin'." "Yeah you do that," Mo shot back before returning to her room. Showered and dressed in a white cashmere turtleneck sweater, skin tight Chip & Pepper jeans and heels, Mo sauntered her way downstairs feeling like a new woman. Her black hair was pulled up in a ponytail, while gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. She looked beautiful and smelled great.

Quan wasn't about to fuck up her day. She was determined to be happy for once. When she entered the sitting room, she found Quan seated on the couch as Lil' Quan played on the floor with a brand new toy truck.

Mo tried to pretend that the lil' boy wasn't the cutest thing she had ever seen, but couldn't. He was absolutely gorgeous.

His long curly hair was cornrowed to the back and a small diamond stud was in his right earlobe. Donned in a red Polo T-shirt, Polo bibs, and red Chuck Taylors, Lil' Quan stared at Mo with the same oval shaped eyes as his father. Shooting the baby a look that could kill, Mo plopped down next to Quan on the couch. Despite how cute his son looked, her feelings hadn't changed. Quan's mini-me had to go.

"You alright now?"

"Umm hmm," she mumbled, transfixed on Lil' Quan. She couldn't take her eyes off him. The more she looked at him, the more she resented Quan and their entire relationship.

"You look nice," he admitted while checking his phone.

It was Sherry. She had been blowing him up since the night before, but instead of answering each time she called, Quan sent her straight to voicemail. He didn't feel like being bothered. He would talk to her when he got ready.

"I thought y'all were leaving?"

"Look, man, I'm sorry for bringing him here like that without talkin' to you, but I ain't have no other choice. And besides ... that's my son, he ain't got nothing to do with what's going on between me and you."

"He has everything to do with what's going on between me and you."

"Well, you gon' have to put whateva animosity you have aside, 'cause he ain't going nowhere. And from now on he will be coming over here on a regular basis."

"Damn, I guess I don't have any say so in this? Do I?"

"Watch yo' mouth. There ain't nothing to discuss. That's my son and this is my house."

"You sho'll right," Mo smirked, getting up.

"Where you going?"

"That's not up for discussion."

"Come here, man." Quan grabbed her arm.

"If you don't let me go ... what the fuck do you want, anyway?!" she shouted.

"Yo, calm down! I'm sorry, a'ight," Quan apologized, wrapping his arms around her. Mo wanted to feel indifferent about his touch, but whenever he held her close everything began to make sense.

"I know this is hard for you. But I want you to know that I love you and I want you and my son to both be in my life.

Please don't make me have to choose, Mo. Please." Trying her best not to acknowledge the feelings and doubts that clouded her mind, Mo gazed up into Quan's pleading brown eyes and sighed. He was right. She couldn't continue behaving the way she had been if she wanted their relationship to work. But what about the way she felt? Was she supposed to place all the anger and frustration aside just so he could feel okay about his infidelity? If so, then that would be asking too much. There was only so much mess Mo was willing to put up with.

"Look ... I'm not making you any promises but I will try to work with you on this."

"Thank you." He gently kissed her forehead. "That's all I'm askin'."

"You want something to eat? I'm gettin' ready to go in the kitchen and fix something."

"Naw, me and lil' man was about to head out to the mall.

You wanna roll?"

"What you going to the mall for?"

"I gotta go grab Lil' Quan some clothes and stuff that I can keep here, now that it's understood that he'll be over here." Ignoring the smart comment he'd just made, Mo replied "Oh."

"I already ran out this morning and got him that outfit he got on, some diapers and a car seat, but he need more shit than that. It would be cool if you helped me pick out some stuff. You know I don't know too much about all that. Plus, we can make a day of it. We'll go shopping, have lunch and take in a movie. How about it?"

"I guess." Mo shrugged her shoulders.

"A'ight, let's go." An hour later Mo, Quan and the baby roamed through the St. Louis Mills mall searching for all the things a one-year-old boy would need. Being that it was a Saturday afternoon, the mall was full. As they walked, Mo wondered if people on the outside thought that they were a family. It sure looked like they were. Quan held his son in his right arm while holding Mo's hand with the other. It was a picture perfect moment, but if a camera would've snapped, the picture would have told the truth.

The agony in Mo's heart would've shown through her eyes.

They would have seen her spirit drifting away from her soul, but she was trying, and that was what really mattered. Quan and Mo visited every children's store from The Children's Palace Outlet to KB Toys. Mo helped him pick out clothes, sippy cups, toys and linens for the baby's bed. They bought so much stuff that some of it had to be delivered to their house.

While Quan took Lil' Quan over to the PBS play area, Mo excused herself and went to the restroom. She didn't really need to pee. She just needed a moment to herself to exhale.

Pretending to be okay with the situation was harder than she thought. Every time she looked at Lil' Quan, a sharp pain panged her heart. He looked so much like Quan it was scary, so this made her wonder what Heaven would have looked like.

Would she have had deep brown eyes, caramel skin and a pretty smile? Or would she have resembled Mo and carried all of her traits?

Putting those thoughts on hold, Mo applied a fresh coat of Chanel gloss to her lips and exited the bathroom to find Quan and his son laughing and playing. They were having so much fun. Quan seemed to be having the time of his life. She had never seen him act so childlike.

It was obvious that his son made him happier than anything in the world. Mo watched in sorrow as Quan stood at the end of a spiral shaped slide waiting for his son. Out of nowhere Lil' Quan came swooshing down from the tunnel with a joy-ous smile on his face as his father scooped him up in his arms and lifted him into the air.

Suddenly, more thoughts began to plague Mo's mind. She started to think,
where do I fit into this picture
? She would never be able to share moments like that with his son. How could she look at his child without thinking about her own?

With her arms folded across her chest, Mo gazed out into space. So much shit was running through her mind that she didn't even feel the presence of someone standing behind her.

"Yo' pants in yo' butt, can I get 'em out?" Brought back to reality by the sound of a male voice, Mo turned and found Boss standing before her. He looked absolutely scrumptious in a gray LA fitted cap, gray Dolce & Gabbana hoodie, white tee, jeans and tan suede Tims.

"You so silly."

"How you doing, beautiful?" He slid his index finger down the side of her face, caressing it. Mo used all of the will power she had, and suppressed the urge to take his finger into her mouth and suck it.

"
Fine
." She instead brightened up and smiled. Mo felt as if she were on cloud nine.

"You lookin' good, as always." He licked his lips, eyeing her up and down.

"Thanks ... so do you," Mo beamed.

"So what's the deal? You still tied down?"

"Yeah, I guess you can say that." She rolled her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at Quan.

"You up here wit that nigga now?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, well, I won't hold you up. You got my number, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"A'ight then, lil' mama. I hate to go but it was good seeing you again. Don't be no stranger."

"I won't," she responded, watching him walk in a thugged out way.

Mo hated to see him go, but deep down inside knew for now it was for the best. Boss, on the other hand, felt tore up inside. Since their last conversation seven months ago, Mo hadn't left his mind. He thought of her every day. Just the sight of her made him want to slide off somewhere and hold her in his arms until the sun came up. With the look she had on her face, he could tell she was digging him, too.

The glow that lit up her face proved it. But even the glow in her cheeks couldn't conceal the undeniable sadness in her eyes. Boss knew she wasn't happy, but the ball was in Mo's court. His feelings were already out on the line. It was up to Mo to make the next move. He just hoped that her next move was the best move, and that the best move was him.

Catching up with Quan, Mo took a seat beside him on a bench.

"Took you long enough. For a minute I thought you might've fell in."

"Shut up," she giggled, still high off her encounter with Boss.

"What you smiling for? What got you so happy?"

"Nothing." She shrugged.

"Here, I got you something." He handed her a Tiffany box.

Surprised, Mo took the box.
When did he have time to go
to Tiffany's?
she thought, opening it. Inside she found her engagement ring, only it had been engraved with an inscription. It read:
You are the best part of me, Quan
. Mo was outdone. She honestly didn't know what to say.

"Will you marry me?" he whispered softly into her ear.

Unable to say no, and reluctant to say yes, Mo hesitated before giving him a reply.

"Are you sure you really want to marry me?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't."

"Oh," she whispered, barely able to speak.

"So ... is that a yes?"

"Yes, Quan, I will marry you."

"That's my girl," he beamed, hugging her tight. Back home after shopping, eating and catching a movie as planned, Mo and Quan pulled into their driveway, tired.

Neither of them realized how much work a one-year-old could be.

"Will you go open the door while I get Lil' Quan out his car seat?"

"Yeah," Mo assured, pulling out her keys. "He's sleep though, so make sure you don't wake him up."

"I won't."

Mo wasn't even in the house a good second and their house phone was ringing off the hook. Placing down her tan Anna Corinna bag, she reached for the cordless phone and said, "Hello."

"Let me speak to Quan," Sherry ordered.

Shocked to hear Sherry's voice not once but twice in two days, Mo held the phone away from her ear and did the only thing she could do, laugh.

"Hello? What the fuck you laughing at? I know you hear me?" Sherry shot.

After getting over the initial shock of hearing Sherry's voice yet again, Mo placed the phone back up to her ear and replied, "It's
may
I speak to Quan, and no you can't, bitch." The next thing Sherry knew, Mo had hung up on her.

Pissed that Quan's mistress would have the audacity to not only call her cell phone, but her house, Mo stormed into the guest room, which was now Lil' Quan's, prepared to go off.

The cordless phone was still in her hand.

"We need to talk!"

"A'ight, so talk. What you coming in here all hype and shit for like you some kind of drill sergeant?" Quan mean mugged her as he placed his son down onto the bed.

"I am sick, sick, sick of yo' shit! Like, if I have to look at your face for one more day I'm gonna lose it! " she seethed as her nostrils flared.

"Yo' ass is fuckin' crazy! You bipolar than a muthafucka!

Like straight up! Something is really wrong wit you! What's the problem now, Mo?"

"You're my problem! How much more of this bullshit do I have to take? Huh? Yo' ass ain't gon' never fuckin' change, are you? The only person you give a damn about is yo'self! You don't give a fuck about me!"

"First of all, don't come at me like that. Slow down, lil' mama, pump your breaks. I don't know what the fuck you talkin' about! Quit coming at me like I can read your mind or something!"

"I'm talkin' about that rat bitch of yours callin' my house!

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