Booty Call *69 (28 page)

I sigh and throw everything in the trash. I need to be really sure, so I make an appointment to see a doctor.

A few days later, I find myself sitting in the doctor’s office waiting for my results. She comes out and takes a seat at her desk. She’s wearing a white lab coat and wire-rimmed glasses. “Ms. Banks, you’re definitely pregnant,” she informs me while looking over my chart.

I bow my head and let out a huge, stressful sigh. “How far along am I?” I ask with serious concern in my voice. “Three, four weeks?”

She looks up at me, baffled. “Ms. Banks, you’re eight weeks pregnant.”

“What? You got to be shitting me!” I shout, startling her. “Are you sure that test is reading right?”

“Yes, and the test shows that you’re eight weeks pregnant.”

I want to pass out. This can’t be happening to me. If I’m eight weeks pregnant, that means I conceived some time in November. That’s not good, because there are three different men who could possibly be the father: Tyrone, Jakim…and Danny.

“Ms. Banks, when is the last time you had your monthly period?” I think about it—it was November, but I didn’t stress missing my period in December because my aunt missed hers due to stress, and she wasn’t pregnant. I figured I had the same problem, since I was dealing with a lot of stress during that time.

The doctor reaches across the table and takes my hand, trying to comfort me, as I start bugging out. “Look, there are options, you know, like adoption, abortion…. I suggest you think about it, give yourself time.”

I feel my eyes watering up. This just can’t be happening. I’m definitely pregnant, but the only question is, by whom?

I go home and take a nice, hot bath. As I sit in the tub, a lot of shit goes through my head like,
what if the baby turns out to be Jakim’s or even worse, Danny’s? How would I deal with that—me and my mother being pregnant by the same guy?
Just the thought of it makes me jump out of the tub and throw up in the toilet. I get back in the tub and think,
what if it turns out to be Tyrone’s?
I wonder how he’ll take it. Will he leave me if it turns out
to be Jakim’s? No matter how I look at it, I’m still in a fucked up predicament. I soak in the tub for about an hour more before getting out and drying myself off. I go to bed and cry all night.

I wake up for the third day straight with no Tyrone in bed with me. Frustrated, I call his cell phone, but there’s no answer. I page him twice, but he doesn’t call back. For the first time in weeks, I’m starting to have doubts about my relationship with him. His negative behavior toward me for the past two weeks has me thinking. When he’s home, all he wants to do is fuck me. He doesn’t want to go out anymore, at least with me. He doesn’t talk to me, and he’s forever on the phone whispering secretly to someone late at night when he thinks I’m asleep. What makes me really upset is when he stays out for nights at a time—like now—not even giving me a courtesy phone call to inform me that he’s all right, or to check and see if everything is okay with me. Now here I am pregnant, and I’m not even sure if it’s his.

And I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong. I’m even starting to get threatening calls from Chinky. She isn’t trying to let bygones be bygones. She calls me at all times of the day, be it three in the morning or three in the afternoon. She rings my phone and says things like, “
It’s still on, bitch! I’m gonna fuck your ass up! Tyrone’s my fuckin’ man; you ain’t nothin’ but some cheap, in-house pussy!
”

Arguing with her is pointless, so I always just hang up on her. But she usually calls back again minutes later. I’m starting to see that I’m going to have to go to war with that bitch!

This is the fourth night that Tyrone hasn’t brought his ass home, and I decide to go and spend the weekend over at my mother’s. I need someone to keep me company, and I don’t care who it is. Besides, I have to tell my mother the news of me being pregnant. I’ll just leave out that there
are three possible fathers, including her man, Danny.

I catch a cab to my mother’s house. I lug my suitcase up the front steps when I spot Danny’s truck parked out front. The first thing that comes to my mind is that he and my mother could have made up by now. Then I start to feel nauseous when I think about the possibility of me carrying his child, as well as my mother. I pause halfway up the steps, trying to get my head and my emotions right. I want to look strong. I haven’t seen my mother and aunt in weeks. I have to walk up in there and let them know I’m doing well for myself, no matter how fucked up things are looking for me.

I walk through the front door and drop my suitcase to the side. The place still looks the same, but I realize that I haven’t been gone for that long. It’s quiet, and I assume they’re fucking in her bedroom, making up for lost time being apart. I walk past my mother’s bedroom. Her door is open, and there isn’t anyone inside. Then I start to hear noises coming from my aunt’s bedroom. Curious, I slowly walk toward her room…. O
h, no she isn’t,
I say to myself.

The closer I come to my aunt’s door, the louder the sounds of ecstasy that are coming from her room get. I peer inside the slightly open door and can’t believe my eyes. My aunt, with her back to me, is riding Danny like there’s no fuckin’ tomorrow.

Stunned, I cup my hand over my mouth.
No, this niggah didn’t! And no, this bitch didn’t!
“Oh, hells no!” I scream, startling them as I fling open her bedroom door all the way and storm into her room.

“Shana!” my aunt shrieks, jumping off the dick, while Danny quickly gets up and plants his feet on the floor. He stands there naked.

“Yo, what’s up wit’ this?” he says looking at me.

“What the fuck is the matter with you? You got my mother pregnant,
and now you fuckin’ my aunt!” I yell.

“Shana, I can explain,” my aunt says with the bed sheets pulled up to her chest.

“You’re wrong, Aunt Tina,” I say to her shaking my head in disbelief.

“Bitch, you got some nerve trying to criticize me when you was riding this same dick a few weeks ago. Don’t be acting like it wasn’t good to you,” Danny says blowing up my spot in front of my aunt.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” my aunt asks.

“I fucked your niece, too. That’s what I’m talking about,” he vulgarly says. His words send chills down my back.

“Oh, you nasty bitch!” my aunt shouts.

“Nasty?! You’re the one busted, Aunt Tina.”

Danny just stands there with this fuckin’ smirk on his face, like he’s mocking us. Yeah, he ran up in all three ladies in the house, and we’re the stupid ones to have given it up to him. He played all of us. I just want to run over there and fuck his ass up.

“Look, I’m out,” Danny says pulling up his pants.

“Niggah, you think you just gonna come up here and fuck everyone and be ghost like that?!” I shout running up in his face.

“Y’all bitches need help.”

“What? Niggah, you’re the bitch. You ain’t shit, Danny!” my aunt yells, trying to play like she’s on my side.

“Whatever! I did y’all a favor.”

“Fuck you, muthafucka! Fuck you!” I scream, slapping him across his face so hard that my hand stings. I’m not just raving mad at him; I’m mad at life period. Tyrone is acting up, showing his ass, after I thought we
had something special. Then there’s Jakim. He showed his ass a long time ago when he cheated on me, and now he wants me to give him a second chance and marry him. He thinks I’m being hard on him, but he doesn’t’ understand that I took it hard, the shit he did to me. And this muthafucka, Danny, he wasn’t no good in the first place. I now see that all he ever cared about was a piece of pussy. He didn’t give a fuck about my mother and her feelings toward him. I also had no regard for her feelings, because if I did, I wouldn’t have fucked her man and be worrying about whether I’m carrying his baby or not. That’s where that hard slap came from. Life just isn’t fair.

“Bitch, are you crazy? Don’t you ever put your mutha-fuckin’ hands on me!” Danny shouts as he returns the slap I gave him, pimp-slapping me hard across the face and knocking me down to the floor.

My aunt is hysterical. She jumps on Danny’s back, scratching and digging into his face, and he knocks her back down onto the bed. I remain on the floor, crying my eyes out.
Why is this happening?
I’m hurting more mentally than physically.

“I’m out. Y’all bitches are crazy.” Danny fastens his jeans and throws on his shirt. “Y’all some fuckin’ hoes anyway.”

“What about my mother? You just gonna walk out on her, too? She’s carrying your baby, and you just going to walk out on her like that?!” I shout, still on the floor looking up at him with tears in my eyes.

“Fuck that ho, too. She’s the stupid one who got herself pregnant. Tell that stupid bitch to get an abortion, because I ain’t takin’ care of no got-damn babies,” he says before exiting the room.

I start to breathe heavily. I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack. My aunt kneels beside me and cradles me in her arms. “It’s all right, Shana. Fuck him! That muthafucka is definitely going to get his. I promise
that shit,” she assures me.

“We ain’t right, Aunt Tina. We ain’t right,” I say, my words filled with pain.

“It’s going to be okay, Shana. It’s going to be okay,” she says continuing to comfort me, despite everything that’s happened.

“No, it’s not, Aunt Tina,” I utter. “I’m fuckin’ pregnant! And I don’t even know who the father is.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant, Aunt Tina,” I repeat, sobbing.

“Oh, God, Shana. You know by who?”

“I told you, I don’t know by who.”

She looks at me closely, reading my pain. She’s not stupid when it comes to situations like this. “You think Danny is one of the possible fathers?” she says. I don’t answer her. I just keep crying, diverting my eyes to the floor. “Oh, Shana, how can you be so careless?!” she exclaims. This is coming from the woman who just got caught fuckin’ the same guy. She helps me to my feet and over to her bed. “What are you planning to do, Shana?” my aunt asks as she gets dressed.

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Aunt Tina. What am I
supposed
to do?”

“Do you plan on telling your mother?”

“That’s why I came.”

“Shit,” she mumbles to herself.

A few minutes later, we hear the front door shut. It has to be my mother. I agree with my aunt to keep her and Danny a secret. This family is already going through enough shit. But I have to tell my mother about my pregnancy. She’s already three months into hers.
How will she react to the news?

I dry my tears and go into the living room to greet my mother. She’s holding the day’s mail in her hand, sorting through it. “Hey, Ma,” I say, greeting her with a phony smile plastered across my face.

She looks up from the mail and smiles when she sees me. “Shana, it’s about time you came by, girl; it’s been weeks. So how are things between you and Tyrone?”

“They’re cool,” I lie.

“Is he treating you right?”

“I’m pregnant!” I blurt out.

She just stands there looking surprised.

“Yeah, I’m pregnant, Ma.”

“I see. By Tyrone, I hope.” I nod my head yes, but I can’t tell her the whole truth.

My mother was sixteen when she had me, younger than I am now, so she can’t bitch about me being too young. I was born two days after my mother’s sixteenth birthday, so that means she got pregnant when she was only fifteen.

My Aunt Tina is no saint either. She’s already had two abortions, and my mother told me she had a miscarriage when she was fifteen; so she also isn’t in any position to criticize me. This is my first pregnancy.

I have a long talk with my mother. She asks if I plan on keeping it. I tell her I’m not sure, but there is a good possibility that I just might. She makes me a cup of hot chocolate and we have something that we haven’t had in a while—a mother-daughter talk. Deep down inside, I really want to tell her the whole truth—that Danny could also be this baby’s father along with Jakim—that I’m a slut and fucked her man behind her back many times. But I hold my tongue. I do tell her about the problems I’m starting to have
with Tyrone, about him not being home half the time, the marriage proposal from Jakim and the fight between them in the hallway. She eases my pain by telling me that I can always move back home whenever I feel like it.

It’s been two weeks since that talk with my mother, and the problems with Tyrone haven’t stopped. We argue and bicker with each other almost every other day. Moving in with the muthafucka was a bad idea.

Sometimes he’ll call home and tell me to clean up the apartment, because he’s bringing some of his boys over to watch TV and chill for the night. Other times the phone will ring or his cell phone will go off in the middle of the night and he’ll quickly answer it, leaving out the door minutes later.

Chinky isn’t making things any better for me. She’s constantly calling here, harassing me and trying to curse me out. I beg Tyrone to change the number, but he tells me no and to just stop answering the fuckin’ phone. I feel that he’s stopped loving me. I have a very strong feeling that he’s fuckin’ some other bitch out there. Besides Chinky, some other ho is calling here; when I answer the phone there’s nothing but silence, and then she hangs up. I know it’s a woman, because his boys always call him on his cell phone.