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Authors: Carl Weber

Tags: #Fiction, #Adultery, #Married men, #African American, #General, #Domestic fiction, #African American men

So You Call Yourself a Man (15 page)

BOOK: So You Call Yourself a Man
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Michelle was laying it on thick, and my mother was eating it up. Ma gave me a look that said,
I thought you told me this woman was not nice.
I just shrugged and kept my mouth shut.

Marcus came out of the room, holding his head down.

My mother always had a way with children. “Come here, sugar plumpkin,” she said.

Marcus slowly ambled over to my mother and reached up and hugged her around her thick waist. Mama's eyes watered as she looked down at him. “James, this boy looks just like your dead Uncle Bob. He's like my oldest brother come back to life.” There went my last ray of hope.

My mother picked him up and patted his back. “Oh, you're so precious.” Over my mother's shoulder, Michelle gave me a smirk. I could've strangled her.

From there, the visit only became more bizarre, as far as I was concerned. We visited for about an hour. Michelle showed my mother baby pictures of Marcus—minus the ones with her and Trent, who she originally thought was the father. She was acting like she was pure as the driven snow as she showed Marcus's pictures when he was three months, six months, nine months, a year, two years, and now, three years. I was too dumbfounded to speak, but she and my mother chatted up a storm. It was as if Ma had completely forgotten that I was actually married to another woman who would probably want to murder us all if she witnessed this scene.

As we were leaving, my mother said to Michelle, “If you ever need anything, or need me to babysit, you can call me.”

Michelle gave me a smug look. “Yes, ma'am,” she said, closing the door behind us. I didn't know if this new, kinder, gentler Michelle was real or just an act for my mother, but if it helped me avoid facing the truth with Cathy for just a little longer, I was happy to accept it for now.

28
Sonny

“Hi, Uncle Sonny,” Tiffany's daughter Nikki shouted as she opened her apartment door and jumped up into my arms.

“Hey there, pretty girl. I think you forgot something.”

Nikki wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me right on the cheek. “I didn't forget,” Nikki insisted. “Rule number one: Always give Uncle Sonny a big kiss when he comes through the door.”

“That's my girl. Now, go watch some TV. I'm gonna go get some Chinese food in a little while so your mom doesn't have to cook.” I let Nikki down and walked over to her brother, Tony, who was playing with his Game Boy.

“What's up, partner? Can I get next?” I stuck out my hand and Tony slapped it without even looking up from the game.

“Sure, Uncle Sonny, but not right now. I just started on this game.”

“That's cool. Hey, did you do your homework?” He pointed toward the kitchen table. Tony was a smart kid, but he needed someone to push him. Ever since Tiffany and I started dating, I had volunteered to be that someone. “Look, I'm going to a Yankees game next Friday with my friends. You wanna go?”

“Yeah!” He stopped playing his game and looked up at me for the first time.

“Okay, I'll set it up with your mom.” I looked around. Tiffany was usually sitting in the living room when I came over. “Where is your mom, anyway?”

“She's in her room talking to my dad on the phone.” Tony went back to his game.

“Oh, really?” My eyebrows shot up as I walked into the kitchen and eased the wall phone receiver off the base and hit the mute button. Now I could hear them, but they couldn't hear me.

“They're your kids, Kareem. Not his. Now, I need you to give me some money to help with your children.”

“What part of ‘I ain't giving you shit as long as you fuckin' that nigger Sonny Harrison' don't you understand? I don't give a fuck if they starve.”

“You a triflin'-ass bastard, you know that, Kareem? Why I ever regarded you as a man at one time, I don't know. Only a sorry-ass bastard would be like this to his children. You'd rather see your kids hungry and out on the street than help me.”

“Who you callin' a bastard, bitch? Don't make me come over there and whip your ass.” I almost released the mute button and invited him over. One of these days, Kareem and I were going to tango, and when we did, he was going to wish he never met Tiffany.

Tiffany got quiet, then she said, “I'm not afraid of you anymore, Kareem.”

“You should be. As many times as I put my foot in your ass. Now, stop calling my phone before seven. You running up my minutes.”

Kareem hung up, and I heard Tiffany mumble, “Damn, now what am I gonna do?”

I smiled. Tiffany didn't have anything to worry about. Whether she knew it or not, I had her back. I hung up the phone, walking from the kitchen to her bedroom as if I hadn't heard a thing. She was sitting on the bed, trying to hide tears. I sat down beside her.

“Hey, babe, what's the matter?” I put my arm around her, patting her back, and she laid her head on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“No, I'm not all right. That bastard I married is tryin' to say he's not gonna give me child-support money anymore because I'm messin' with you. He promised me that money, Sonny. I was going to pay the kids' tuition with that money. God, I can't stand that bastard. He don't even care about his own kids.” Tiffany balled her right fist and punched it into her open palm.

“Fuck him, Tiffany. I told you before I'd help you with your bills. Haven't I told you that I want to be here for you? Now, how much you need to pay?”

Tiffany lifted her head as if she was about to say something, but when I smiled at her, she lowered her head again as if she was ashamed. “Yes, I remember you said you'd like to help out, but I can't ask you for that kind of money, Sonny.”

“Why not? I'm your man, aren't I? Don't make things harder than what they have to be, Tif. You've got me right here saying I'd like to help you. I'll take care of the kids' schooling bill. It's not a problem, okay?”

“Yes, but they're not your kids. He should be paying their tuition.” I think Tiffany could tell I was a little hurt by the “not your kids” comment, because she grabbed my hand and spurted her second statement as quick as a reflex action. “The truth is, I may need you to help me with some other bills if I don't get a new job soon.”

“New job? What's wrong with where you work? I thought you liked your job.”

“I did, but they fired me today. They just let me go without warning.”

“Oh, no. That sounds kind of fishy. Did you ask them what were their grounds for firing you?”

“Yes. I was told some crap about downsizing my position, but I think that shit was racist.” She looked like she was about to cry again. I noticed her bottom lip trembled as she spoke.

“Don't cry, Tif. We're going to get through this. I've heard of workplaces being inconsiderate like this before, but we're not going to let this beat us.”

“How am I going to pay my rent and keep my kids in private school? I don't got no job, Sonny.” She looked so frustrated.

“I think I've got the answer to your problem.”

“What's that?”

“You're worried about paying your rent and the kids going to good schools, right?”

“Yeah, and…”

“Well, why don't you move in with me? I've got this big old empty house that both you and the kids love. They can each have their own bedroom, which they don't have here. There's plenty of fresh air out there in Long Island, and the schools are good. They can play outside and not be stuck up in this apartment after school.” I could see the wheels spinning around in Tiffany's head, and I was sure she'd come to the same conclusion I did, but I was wrong.

“No, Sonny.” She shook her head. “It's a tempting offer, but I can't do it. Not yet, anyway. We just started dating, and I promised myself I wouldn't live with a man unless I was married to him.”

“Is this a roundabout way to get me to ask for your hand in marriage?”

“No, this is me trying to convince myself I'm doing the right thing. 'Cause if one more thing happens to me, I might just take you up on your offer.”

“So, Tiffany, if you don't come to stay with me, how are you going to pay your bills?”

“I've got a little money stashed away that my mother left me when she passed last year, and I can get unemployment. Oh, and I'm going to take my ex to court.”

“Yeah, but Tif, are you sure everything will be taken care of on a measly little unemployment check? And who knows how long you'll be battling back and forth with your ex? Court could take a long while. You sure you don't need my help?”

“I'm not sure of anything right now, Sonny, and don't get me wrong, I'm going to need your help. I just can't move in with you right now, but I reserve the right to change my mind.” Tiffany kissed me. “I love you, Sonny.”

“I love you too.”

“Uncle Sonny, are we going to get some Chinese food or what?” Nikki walked into the room and jumped on the bed.

“Yes, we're going.” I stood up and smiled at Tiffany. “We're going to get through this together, me and you, all right?” Tiffany nodded and gave me a slight smile. “Look, let me run out and get this girl some Chinese food before she loses her mind. Come on, Nikki.”

29
James

“Okay, James, have a nice time at the game.” Cathy gave me a quick kiss and practically pushed me out the front door. I was headed to a baseball game with Sonny and Brent, and our boys were sleeping over at a friend's house for the weekend, so Cathy was looking forward to a full day alone in the house. As much as she loved her family and missed the boys whenever they were away from her for more than a few hours, I know she longed for those rare moments of peace that came when we were all gone. She had a few DVDs lined up on the coffee table, all chick flicks, of course, and water on the stove to make herself some herbal tea. After a movie, she would probably go upstairs and soak in a tub scented with some sort of feminine concoction she picked up at the Bath & Body Works.

“Thanks, honey. You enjoy your day at home,” I told her.

“I will. Do you think you'll be going out to dinner or something after the game?” Her eyes looked hopeful when she asked the question, like she was trying to squeeze as many male-free hours as she could out of this day.

“Sure, babe. You don't have to worry about making anything for dinner. I'll pick something up before I come home.”

“Sounds good,” she said, already taking a few steps back into the living room, glancing impatiently toward the waiting DVD player.

I chuckled as I walked to my car. I was happy she was excited about her day. Cathy was a great mother, and she took good care of me too, so her time off was well deserved. Of course, my guilt over the situation with Michelle and Marcus probably made me even more anxious to see my wife this happy. I had this terrible feeling of dread that at some point soon I would have to confess to her about Marcus being my son, and then there might be very few moments of happiness in my household. If it was still my household.

As I drove down the street away from my home, my mind, as it had so many times since I received the paternity test results, raced through the many possible ways the scenario could play out. I still hadn't come up with a plan to reveal the truth to my wife without permanently damaging our relationship. One thing I was sure of, though, was that I had to be the one to tell her. The news could not come from anyone else.

That was why I was headed to Michelle's house before I met Brent and Sonny for the game. I had to keep the peace with her, so I promised to take Marcus from her for a few hours to give her a break. Funny how with Cathy I felt the break was well deserved, but with Michelle I still had this nagging feeling that she was taking advantage of the situation and would get rid of Marcus for a day any chance she got. But whatever the case, I was going to pick him up and take him to my mother's house.

Michelle seemed to be calling more and more frequently to demand that I babysit, and sooner or later it would be impossible for me to keep up with the lies. Cathy was satisfied with the lie that I had a second job, but at the rate things were progressing, I'd soon be “going to work” every damn night. Thank God my mother was willing to help out, though I knew Michelle still wished I would be the one watching Marcus all the time. She knew that all this babysitting would eventually cause a strain in my marriage, and I'm sure that's exactly what she wanted. Ever since we ended up wrestling over the phone that one night, and the kiss the night I'd been forced to give her when I got the DNA swab from her mouth, she'd been making suggestive comments about our once-active sexual relationship.
Didn't I miss it?
she wanted to know, making it obvious that she did. I guess she figured that if she could pull me out of my bed enough nights of the week, I would have no chance to have sex with my wife, and I'd be horny enough to take her up on her offer to rekindle our relationship.

Like everything else with Michelle, I played along. While I didn't act on any of her advances, I didn't come right out and refuse them, either. Because I let her keep that little bit of hope alive that we might get together again, I was reasonably sure she wouldn't try to contact Cathy.

This would be the first time that Marcus would spend a day with my mother, but I was confident things would be fine. They had actually hit it off well on the day she went to Michelle's house and met him. She always loved babies, and while this one was not conceived in the best of circumstances, he was still her grandchild, and she was looking forward to getting to know him. Michelle wasn't going to work that day, but she had called, claiming she just needed some time away from Marcus, and my mother had happily agreed to take him so I could still go to the game.

When I knocked on Michelle's door, she let me in, and I couldn't help but notice her appearance. I guess she wasn't planning to try to seduce me that day. Or, if she was, she was sure going about it the wrong way. Her outfit was nice enough, fitting her curves tightly the way she liked, but her face was totally without makeup, and her hair was wrapped in a dingy old scarf. I was actually relieved that it didn't look like we'd be playing any of her games. And the way she greeted me confirmed that she was all about business today.

“You know it's the end of the week, right?”

“Uh, yeah, Michelle, I looked at a calendar today. Thanks,” I answered, reminding myself to try to control the sarcasm. I wanted to get Marcus and get out of there with as little hassle as possible.

“Shut up, James. You know damn well what I'm talking about.”

Of course I did. This was Michelle's reminder that I owed her some money for child support. As long as I gave her something weekly, she agreed that she wouldn't go the legal route to get court-enforced payments. That was the last thing I needed—for the money to start disappearing from my paychecks. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills, which I handed to her.

She looked down at the money and a smile came across her face. I seriously doubted that she was thinking about all the things she could buy for her son with that money.

“Marcus, your daddy is here,” she called toward the bedroom. I still had to get used to being referred to as Daddy by another family. But regardless, I couldn't help but grin when I saw him come into the hallway. The kid really was cute, and he looked so eager to be going with me. He was innocent in this whole mess, and I didn't want to see him hurt, no matter how much I couldn't stand his mother.

“Hey, little man, you ready to go?” I asked as I reached my hand out to him.

“Yeah, Daddy.” He gave me a big high-five and laughed.

“Okay, then. Why don't you go pick out a few of your toys to bring with you?” I suggested, knowing my mother didn't really have anything in the house he could play with. Marcus ran to his bedroom to gather his toys, and I stood waiting in the living room.

“You can sit down if you want,” Michelle said, sounding like she couldn't care less what I did, before she headed for the kitchen.

I took a seat on the couch and checked my watch. There was plenty of time for me to get Marcus to my mother's house and meet Sonny and Brent in time to see the first pitch.

“Yeah, girl, it's me.” I heard Michelle's voice coming from the kitchen. She was obviously on the phone talking to one of her friends, who was probably someone else's baby mama headache.

“What? Yeah, he's here. Uh-huh. I got two hundred.” I rolled my eyes when I heard that. I wondered how often she and her friends compared notes on how much money they were able to extort from their babies' fathers.

Michelle laughed, then I heard her say, “Hell, yeah, we're still going. Call up and find out how crowded it is in there today. I don't want to be waiting all day to get my hair done. What? No, I don't want to skip it. Janay is gonna watch Marcus for me tonight when James brings him back, and you know my hair gotta look good for the club tonight.”

It took every bit of self-control that I had not to jump off the couch and go into the kitchen. Now, I know there are probably plenty of men out there who have their suspicions about where their child-support money actually goes, but I was a brother with living proof that not a penny of that money was going to benefit my son. That two hundred dollars was going to end up in the hands of some weave-wearing, gum-popping chick down at the hair salon, who probably had a few baby daddies of her own on the hook for loot every month. That shit burned me up.

I was on the couch doing some deep breathing to calm myself down when Michelle strolled back into the living room. “Marcus,” she yelled, “hurry up. You don't want to keep your daddy waiting.”

“What's the matter?” I asked. “You in a hurry to get to your hair appointment?”

She rolled her eyes at me but didn't bother to answer my question as she picked up her purse and pulled out her wallet.

“I can't believe you, Michelle.”

“What is your problem?” she asked calmly, like she didn't have a care in the world. Shoot, she didn't, now that she had my cash safely tucked away in her bag.

“You know what my problem is. I gave you that money to take care of Marcus, and you don't even have the decency to
pretend
you're gonna spend it on him.”

“Oh, I know you're not gonna go there,” she started, turning to me with an ice-cold stare. “Shoot, as much money as I spend on that child every day, I'm broke by the end of the week. As long as your son is provided for, you shouldn't care where your share of his support money goes. Trust me, Marcus gets everything he needs.”

“Somehow I doubt that, Michelle.” I stood up and stepped closer to her. “You're so damn concerned about going to get your party on at the club tonight, you're gonna leave him with my mother all day and then leave him with another babysitter tonight. As a matter of fact, whoever this Janay person is, why couldn't you have called her all those times you called me to come babysit?”

“Oh, no, you didn't just say that. I'm a good mother to my son, James, and just because I want to go out once in a while don't mean I don't take care of my baby. And as far as calling you to watch him, shit, he's your son. Be glad I don't make you take him for a whole weekend.”

So much for getting out of there without a hassle…. Her attitude, like she was doing me some kind of favor with our current arrangement, had me at the boiling point. My anger was out of control now, and I didn't stop to think about what I said next.

“You know what? Forget you. Maybe your girl Janay can watch him all day, 'cause I damn sure ain't gonna let you take advantage of my mother as your new babysitter. It's bad enough you keep calling me to watch him and bring you money all the damn time. I can see it now,” I said, mocking the sistah-girl tone she'd used on the phone a few minutes before, “‘Yeah, girl, I got his mother wrapped around my finger. She'll watch Marcus any time I want.' Well, guess what, Michelle? It ain't happening. You can watch him your damn self!” As I shouted, I spotted Marcus out of the corner of my eye. He had come into the room while we were fighting, and he stood there now, his arms full of action figures he had been planning to take to my mother's house, his face full of confusion and pain.

I felt like shit, but there was nothing I could do now. The stress of everything Michelle had been putting me through for weeks now had pushed me to this point. There was no turning back. I headed for the door.

“You'll be sorry if you walk out that door, James,” Michelle threatened. I didn't care what she had to say. My legs carried me forward until I was in my car, driving away from her house.

It wasn't until I was almost a mile away before I realized the seriousness of what I had just done. The image of Marcus's sad face was still stabbing at my conscience. I had done exactly what I had hoped would never happen; I had hurt him. And even worse, I had enraged Michelle, and I knew what she was capable of when it came to revenge.

I gathered the courage to dial my home phone. As I listened to it ring, I said a silent prayer that Michelle hadn't already called Cathy. If she had, I didn't know what I was going to say, but there seemed to be no choice but to make this call. Depending on what Cathy had to say, I could either go to the game with my boys, all the while worrying that Michelle still might call, or I'd head home to try to pick up the pieces of my marriage.

As it turned out, neither one of those things happened. The answering machine picked up at my house. Cathy must have turned off the ringer when she sat down to watch her movies. If I was lucky, she had also turned down the volume on the answering machine. Maybe the worst that would happen was Michelle's number showing up on the caller ID. I would just have to get home early enough to check the messages on the machine before Cathy got to them. My breathing returned to a more normal rate as I realized I just might be able to handle this mess.

 

I went to the game with Brent and Sonny, though I don't remember much of what happened there. My mind was still on overdrive, thinking through my dilemma. When should I tell Cathy? And would she ever be able to forgive me? Or was it already too late? Had Michelle left a message that Cathy had already listened to? My boys noticed how preoccupied I was, and it was easy for them to guess who was the cause of my bad mood, but they didn't push for details. I told them I didn't want their day to be ruined the way mine had been, and they left it alone after that.

By the end of the game, I was more than ready to go home. I know I had promised Cathy I'd stay out later so she could have more time alone, but I needed to see her now. As much as I tried to find a way around it, the time had come for me to admit everything to her. Things with Michelle were not going to get better. At this point, it seemed like it was just a matter of time before she got pissed off enough and contacted Cathy, if she hadn't already, and I could not let it happen that way. My wife had to hear it from me if there was any hope of saving our marriage.

On the drive home, I came up with the words I would say to my wife to tell her about my son. I couldn't think past those first few sentences, because I had no idea how she would react. It wasn't possible to plan my defense if I couldn't be sure she'd even want to listen to me once I broke the news. I would just have to let things flow whichever way they did once the conversation was started. I was just grateful that my boys would not be home that night to hear any of this.

BOOK: So You Call Yourself a Man
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