Juicy (25 page)

“Jeez…thanks a lot, Juicy, because for once I really needed you!”

She slipped on oversized athletic shorts and a t-shirt that stretched over the round of her belly. “Then you should have been here instead of running off to your Momma and Daddy. When shit gets tough, that’s what you’re going to do.” She climbed into the freshly made bed without commenting on how clean everything now was.

He scratched his head and watched her. “There is so much that I wanted…I wanted to tell you. But I know you don’t want to hear it. Maybe you’re right and I shouldn’t have gone to my parents to help me. But what I needed from them, you wouldn’t have been able to do for me, because what I needed was to be a better son.”

She suddenly sat up in bed. “Troy! You left me when I told you that I was pregnant. You walked out the door and went to another flippin’ state! You’ve only just now come back—TWO ENTIRE WEEKS LATER! You can tell me all of the stories that you want as to why you left and why it took you two weeks to come back, but all I know is that I am here and you are there and it was you that walked out and not me! So, I’m not going to fall for your sob story! You are a bastard! You can walk out on me and use your ILLNESS as an excuse. I thought that I could trust you…then you just left! Just like everybody else. I’m not EVER going to depend on you, Troy. I’m never going to trust you! So, let me make this clear; I don’t give a shit what you do, or what you say!” His face had turned white as he stared at the screaming pregnant woman.

She got out of the bed still glaring at him. “Want to know ‘how I’m doing?’ I’m flipping doing wonderful, thank you very much.” She put her hands on her hips as she spoke sarcastically. “I have gestational high blood pressure. Every time I get angry, upset, worried then my blood pressure spikes—and so does the baby’s. If I get sick, she gets sick-- and yes; she. She’s a girl. My blood pressure is so high right now that my doctor wants to take the baby but he can’t, because even though the pre-eclampsia made her bigger her lungs are dangerously under developed. So guess what I have to do? I have to lie in that bed so that I can save me and my baby’s life! In case I didn’t say it; thank you for cleaning, thank you for making dinner! But no matter what you do, I will never let you back into my heart again; EVER!”

Troy’s mouth was a thin line in his very pale face. She knew it was a migraine; knew the signs but didn’t say anything more. Pain like nothing he’d ever before felt encased his heart, not his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three bottles of pills. He placed them on the dresser. When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m going to take these everyday for the rest of my life, so that my child won’t ever say what you just said to me.” Troy left the room and Juicy lay there trying to catch her breath and waiting for her heart to stop drumming in her chest. She felt the sweat beading on her forehead and pushed back her angry tears.

She heard noise in the kitchen, cabinets opening, oven door and a few moments later Troy returned to the bedroom carrying a tray containing a plate piled high with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, the fresh green beans that she’d bought earlier in the week but had been too lazy to cook, as well as cornbread made with white cornmeal instead of the yellow that everyone else seemed to use.

He placed the tray on the bed without looking at her. “I don’t know much about gestational…what you said, but if this food isn’t healthy I’ll do some research at the library and cook healthier.” He left the room without looking at her. Juicy picked up the tray and began to eat. It was good. Tears splashed from her eyes as she looked at the blurred plate.

Later he returned and picked up the tray with the half eaten food. She was lying on her side but not able to sleep.

“Do you want to see a picture of her?” His light gray eyes met her dark ones. The strain around both of their eyes began to relax. “In my purse is an ultrasound picture.” Troy left the tray on the bed and rushed into the living room where her purse sat on the cocktail table.

He had never gone through her purse before, but this time he did so without thought, shoving things aside until he saw several folded ultra sound prints. His breath came out in a gust. He stared at them while sinking to the couch. His hands trembled and his face suddenly broke as tears slid down his cheeks. He stared at his daughter. His daughter.

Juicy had slipped out of bed and was standing in the bedroom door watching him. Overcome with emotion he silently sobbed while he stared at the pictures, murmuring something that sounded like, “...I’ll die….”

She’d seen Troy in so many ways, funny, strong, fearless, scared…but never completely broken. The tight anger that had gripped her soul began to loosen. She wasn’t ready to let it go, but she couldn’t help but be affected by his weeping. But what was he saying?

“What?” Juicy ambled over to him. “What did you say?”

He looked at her with red eyes. “Magnus was right. I’ll die without you and my daughter. You’re all I’m living for right now.” He choked on a sob and stared back at the picture.

She felt hot and cold all at once as she stared down at the young man who had warded off a group of thug attackers for her, who had carried her to the hospital and who had sat with her for days on end even though she was just a stranger.

The tight band disappeared. “Who is Magnus?”

His eyes moved from the picture to her. “Magnus is a girl that was in seventy-two hour hold.”

“Oh.” She moved forward until she was standing directly in front of her. “Tell me about her.”

He paused, staring at her. Juicy held out her hand. “Tell me about Magnus and seventy-two hour hold and being a good son and everything.”

He nodded and placed the picture of his daughter on the cocktail table. Then he stood up slowly and gave her his hand. She led him into the bedroom where she carefully climbed into bed watching him as she curled up comfortably under the covers. He took the tray of food back to the kitchen and when he returned to the bedroom he stood by the bed and watched her momentarily before sliding off his pants and shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks. When he was down to his boxers he slid into bed and stared deeply into her eyes. She thought of that phrase, ‘bump’ in the road. They’d just had that and had walked around it and continued, yet the bump was still there.

He reached out tentatively and placed his hand on her belly. Only then did his face lose the last of its tension. Juicy placed her hand over his. Maybe they would one day forget about that bump…

“Magnus is a girl that makes a hobby out of attempted suicide…” Troy began. He talked slowly at first, carefully reciting the events of seventy-two hour hold, but as the night moved on, his voice returned to the one that Juicy recognized; filled with animation and excitement. He was grinning when he revealed that he didn’t have a diagnosis of mental illness.

Juicy sat up on her elbows, eyes wide. “What? You’re not mentally ill?”

He gave her a wry grin. “Wow…don’t sound so surprised.”

She chuckled and lay back down. “No, I just-”

“Evidently having crazy ideas doesn’t actually make you crazy.”

“I guess I’m the only ‘crazy’ in the family, then.” Her brow creased and he watched her silently.

“Get some rest, love. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Wait, I want to know about the medicine.”

“It makes me sick. But in the long run it will make me better.” He said simply. “Turn around Juicy.”

“Huh?” He made a circle motion with his hands and she turned to face away from him. She felt his hand slide across her swollen belly and his body spoon against her back. She sighed in pleasure and her eyes began to droop.

“I love you, Juice.” He kissed the back of her neck, and buried his face into her golden dredlocks where he began to drift off to sleep to the smell of her hair conditioner and the shea butter that she rubbed on her skin.

“Love you…” she murmured.

CHAPTER 18

Troy woke up before Juicy. He looked around for the alarm clock but didn’t see it. Then he showered and shaved, took his medicine and made breakfast of hard boiled eggs, bran muffins and tea. He wrote a quick note to her letting her know that he had gone to the library and would be back by noon. He set her food on the tray beside her bed and kissed her goodbye. Then he leaned down and placed his lips on her belly.

There were libraries all over Cincinnati but he went to the main branch downtown. He stopped in a drugstore first and bought a pay by the minute cell phone. There was no way that he wanted Juicy to need to get in touch with him and not be able to. At the library he logged into one of the computers. He did research on pre-eclampsia. Juicy was overweight, she had a bad diet and she hadn’t received any prenatal care until late in her pregnancy.

He winced as he read the implications. Troy was almost a robot as he headed for the nearest pawnshop. He couldn’t stop thinking about how disastrous his leaving could have been and may still be. If she…if anything happened to either of them then he would forever hold himself responsible. He had to make her life stressfree.

At the pawn shop he bought a used laptop computer that actually looked pretty good. He then headed over to the shop, hailing a cab. Yes, it did take money to be normal, but it was necessary in order to give him and his family a better quality of life. And he knew that this was the reason that people did the things that he had always rejected—in order to make things better.

When he stepped into the shop he was surprised at the greeting he received. “Candyman!” It was obvious that it was true pleasure in which they greeted the young man. He smiled and waved. Old Miss Vernetta jumped to her feet.

“Where are those cookies you were supposed to bake for me, boy?!” But he knew that her words were spoken with good natured brusqueness. He wanted to hug the old woman and kiss her wrinkled cheek and tell her that he missed her too. Instead he winked and said,

“I got you, Miss Vernetta. You know I’m not going to forget about you!” The old lady looked as if she would blush.

Someone else said, “And what about the muffins?”

“Yeah, what about the rest of us?”

“You know that’s the only reason we let a white man into the shop!”

Everyone started laughing.

“Uhm…I thought it was because I was part owner.” He chuckled. “I’ve been out of town. But we’re trying to get everything back on track now.”

“How is Juicy?”

“Yeah. Poor thing ain’t been around in ages and that ain’t like her to miss out on some money.”

Eboni waved a curling iron. “I told y’all she got the Fre-erasia and got to stay off her feet.”

“Ahh.” Someone said. “My cousin had that, and that ain’t no joke. Her boy was born with a waterhead.”

“Shhh!” Someone gestured to Troy.

“She has pre-eclampsia. And it’s high blood pressure. So, I’m going to be taking over here until she’s better.”

The room got quiet, not a sound could be heard. “What exactly do you mean ‘taking over’ here?” Miss Barbara Jean spoke. She gave him an up and down look.

He held up his hand apologetically. “I just mean I’m going to be making the deposits, doing stock, cleaning up.”

Everyone sighed in relief. “Thought you was going to come up in here and turn this into a white ‘hair salon.’” Someone said.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with white hair salons.” A young woman spoke. “They got ten dollar haircuts. Shit, I go there for my cut and get my perms here.”

Troy went back to the office while they continued with their conversation. “Eboni, can you show me what’s been going on?”

“Sure, Candyman. Let me put Miss Frasier under the dryer.”

The count was good and the books in order, but the utility bills needed paying for the month. They were already past due but not in a danger zone situation. When he got the computer set up at home then he’d be able to do this over the computer.

“Eboni, I can’t stay around her because I’m looking after Juice. I appreciate all that you’ve done these two weeks, but I think I’m going to have to hire someone to answer phones, keep up with the stock, cleaning. I can come in in the morning to mop and clean the bathroom and wipe everything down.”

“Well you ain’t gotta get an extra cleaning person. Let them lazy heffa’s clean up their own workstation!” She waved her hand in the direction of the salon area. “Look, Juicy told me that I can keep my booth fees, which you know is hellafied but I ain’t complaining since she’s got a reputation for doing good hair and people around these parts know her. But if you let me keep my booth fees then I can pick up at the end of the day, keep things straight here and check the voicemail at the end of the day. Then the workers can leave their payments with me at the end of the week and you can collect it then and make your deposit, cool?”

He looked at her in appreciation. “Cool.”

“Now you just go home and take care of your woman. And tell her that we are holding it down and miss her crazy ass!”

He smiled as he was ushered out of the shop. “Alright.” He picked up the laptop and checked the time on his new cell phone and then he hurried around the corner to catch the bus.

He got home at 11:45 and Juicy was sitting propped up in bed watching television. She smiled when he walked into the room.