Two Steps Back (3 page)

“Now I’m just going to use the little spatula to obtain a cell sample from your cervix to make sure everything is alright. You may feel a slight discomfort.”

Jaylah winced and resisted the urge to snap her legs shut.
She closed her eyes and counted backward from 100. By the time she got to 70, Dr. Lawson was done.

“Everything looks fine. I’ll have the results of your pap in a few weeks. Now, let’s see if we can figure out how far along you are.
Be right back.”

Dr. Lawson left the ro
om, but quickly returned with an ultrasound machine that looked like a compact computer workstation. She motioned for Jaylah to open her gown, and then smoothed a thick coat of cold jelly on her torso.

“We may not be able to see or hear anything, especially if you’re less than six weeks
along, but hopefully we’ll get lucky,” Dr. Lawson said.

Jaylah s
tared at the ceiling, unsure she wanted to see the blob in action. She’d been trying not to think of the mass as a little person growing inside her lest she be clubbed over the head by attachment.

B
ut she was curious.

As Dr. Lawson ran the probe over her belly Jaylah stared at the screen, straining to catch a glimpse of the blob swimming inside her.  She thought about
ringing Johnny on Skype so he could also see the blob fluttering about. It would surely make his day, and after their argument about his wife’s reappearance and Jaylah’s ultimatum, they needed something to soothe the anger and hurt feelings.

But she resisted, calling him
would only further complicate things.

Jaylah refocused her attention on the f
lorescent lights above her head and pretended to be 5,000 miles away from the exam room that felt like the walls were closing in and she was going to suffocate. In her mind, Jaylah was back on the Tube, zipping through the tunnel on her way to go shopping in Oxford Circus, wandering around Camden, or meeting Jourdan for drinks at the Satay Bar.

As she fell further down the rabbit hole
of her imagination, Jaylah pictured herself back in her flat in Highbury typing away on her column while Johnny tries to lure her away from the computer with kisses and the promise of Jamaican take out. After finally giving in, the pair cackle like they’ve known each other for years, not months, and their playful flirting turns into steamy love making on her couch.

“Hmm…” Dr. Lawson said
, cutting Jaylah’s daydream short. “I think we may have something. Hear that?”

Jaylah
closed her eyes and focused on the faint drumming coming from the machine. Dr. Lawson turned up the volume and a team of horses galloped out of the speakers and straight to Jaylah’s heart.

“Is that…”
she asked, breathless.

“Yup, that’s the heartbeat! Now, let’s see if I can actually get a look at the fetus.”

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, gobsmacked. “That’s really it?”

“Yeah, it sounds very healthy
, too.”

Jaylah didn’t know what to think or feel or say.
The horses felt like they were hurtling through her body rendering her nervous and mute. After weeks of trying not to think of the blob as a person, but rather an unfortunate inconvenience, she was completely caught off guard by this moment.

That’s my baby? That’s my baby? That’s my baby?
Jaylah turned the question over in her brain again and again hoping to find an answer.

While Dr. Lawson moved the probe around Jaylah’s belly trying to catch a glimp
se of the fetus, Jaylah grabbed her phone and dialed Johnny.  She did not know what she would say, or why she was even calling him given their recent blowout. But she needed to share this moment and it was only fitting that it would be with him.

“Jaylah?” he answered with a sigh, “Look, I’m
still at the office and don’t want to argue.“

She put him on speaker. “Can you hear it?”

“Hear what?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “It’s late and I need to get out of—“

She moved the phone closer to the machine. “Listen.”

The team of horses picked up their pace, seemingly spurred on by their voices. After a few seconds of drumming, she heard Johnny’s voice catch in his throat.

“Can you hear it?”

“Yes, yes, my God, yes,” he said. “It’s so fast.”

“And strong,” Dr. Lawson said. “And look at that. There it is.”

“What? What?” Johnny asked, slightly panicked. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Dr. Lawson and Jaylah answered in
unison.

“See that? That’s the fetus,” Dr. Lawson said
, pointing to the blob on the screen.

“It’s so tiny,
” Jaylah whispered.

“Yeah, about the size of a kidney bean. Less than an inch. Judging from the size of the fetus
, and the date of your last period, you’re about eight weeks along.”

“That far?” Jaylah gasped. “That’s two months!”

“It’s still very early. A typical pregnancy lasts for about 40 weeks, so you have quite a lot of time to go if you decide the fetus to carry to term. But you need to make up your mind quickly, okay?”

Jaylah nodded. “Okay.”

“Great. You can get dressed. Do you want me to send your mom back in?”

Jaylah shook her head.

Dr. Lawson chuckled. “I don’t blame you.”

She left the room and closed the door. Jaylah stared at
her phone and got lost in the deep crevices of her mind.

“Thank you,” Johnny said, bringing her back to the moment.

“What?”

“Thank you for letting me hear that. It was,” his voice cracked, “beautiful.”

“What are we going to do, Johnny?” She was asking herself just as much as him.

“You’re going to come home, we’re going to get married, and we’re going to raise our baby,” he said firmly.

“Married? You’re already married.”

“
Yes, but not for long.”

“We shouldn’t
rush into anything, Johnny. The timing couldn’t be worse. We’ve only been together a few months, I just got a job, and—”

“Thin
gs don’t always go according to plan, Jaylah. But we can make it work.”

“How do you know? It didn’t work with your wife.”

“Can you stop saying that? This is totally different.”

“How? You guys got married because she was pregnant. How is this
any different?”

“Because I want to be with you
, Jaylah,” he said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “Can’t you see I’m crazy about you? I want to build a life with you, and I
want
to marry you.”

“Because I
’m pregnant.”

“Because I love you.”

Jaylah rubbed her temples and let Johnny’s words hang in the air. She knew he loved her, knew that he meant well, but was that enough? Could love sustain them through a pregnancy, his divorce, and whatever else that would come their way?

She appreciated his sense of duty, but she wasn’t convinced that
they were the exception—the couple who could overcome a troubled start and crazy drama to live happily ever after.

“
Are you still there?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m here. I don’t know what to do, Johnny. And I’m tired of trying to figure it out.”

“I know, babes, I know. But things will work out, I promise. Just…” he hesitated, “please don’t kill our baby, Jaylah. Please. Not after today.”

Jaylah
put her clothes on in silence and tried the process the last 15 minutes of her life. She walked into the doctor’s office intent on ridding herself of the blob, but now it was a baby,
her baby.

“Did you hear what I said, Jaylah? Please don’t kill our baby. We can make this work, I know it.”

She wasn’t sure they could overcome the odds, but everything within her prayed Johnny was right.

Four

Jaylah stood in the middle of her living room and surveyed her former life. The walls she meant to repaint three years ago still lacked the cheerful colors she’d picked out; functional, yet nondescript, furniture dotted the room; and pictures of her family clung to the walls. The whole scene looked appropriate, but impersonal—much like Jaylah’s old life.

Six
months ago she sleepwalked through the days, going from her cubical at the
L.A. Weekly
to her assignments and back to her couch. Jaylah threw herself into work, never refusing to cover an album release party, concert, or film screening no matter how much she thought she was better suited for weightier assignments, or didn’t want to attend. The result? She grew to hate her job, and her personal life was damn near nonexistent, consisting of very few friends, men she slept with on occasion, and her parents—always her parents—stepping in to fill the gaps.

Getting fired from the
L.A. Weekly
felt like a huge slap in the face. After five years of writing about topics she could give a rat’s ass about, Jaylah felt like she’d paid her dues and should have had free reign to cover things she was actually passionate about—the social implications of pop culture, politics, race. Her time at the paper afforded her a comfortable lifestyle and the façade of success, but it didn’t make her happy. Instead, she felt like she was drowning.

Six month
s ago Jaylah did not, could not, know that getting fired would be the best thing that ever happened to her, but it had. She became a woman unleashed, no longer burdened by a job she couldn’t stand, a city she felt she’d out grown, and a mother who showed love by controlling her every move.

Losing her job, leaving L.A., and moving to London had been her chance at liberation. And she grabbed it and ran.

Jaylah gazed around the room trying to decide what would get boxed and shipped to London and what would be housed in her parents’ garage. She picked up a vase her boss had given her for Christmas and marveled at just how ugly it was with its frosted glass and cobalt blue waves. She moved to put it in the box marked “storage,” but quickly changed her mind. Instead, she went to the balcony, checked to make sure no one was around, and hurled it to the ground.

A surprising sense of satisfaction spread through her as
shards of glass scattered across the driveway. Old Jaylah would have wrapped the vase in paper and stored it away for safe keeping despite hating it. But this new woman, unbound by her former life, wanted it gone. She returned to the living room looking for something else to smash to bits, but realized her things were too well kept to destroy. In that moment, she devised a new plan.

Jaylah moved through her apartment
snapping pictures on her phone and thinking about how much she could get for the items she no longer wanted. There was no need to pay thousands of dollars to ship things to London and no need to hire movers to haul her stuff to her parents’ garage when she knew she would never need them again.

New Jaylah didn’t want anything from Old Jaylah’s life except for
her vast collection of books, the jewelry box and diamond earrings her parents had given her when she turned 13, and her pictures. Everything else could go up for sale.

Before her old,
sensible self could come barging back in, Jaylah called the movers and canceled her appointment, then cracked open her laptop and began placing Craigslist ads for her things.

I’ll donate whatever doesn’t sell,
she thought, already feeling a thousand pounds lighter because of her decision to get rid of the remnants of her former life.

When she was done cataloging and writing ads, Jaylah surveyed her apartment with
fresh eyes. For once she didn’t feel instantly depressed by her solemn, unimaginative space; she felt hopeful.

Her rebirth had actually happened; it wasn’t a fluke. Her move to London hadn’t been some sort of apparition; it was real. And she was determined to make it work, no matter what.

Five

“What time will the movers be at your apartment on Saturday?” Mrs. Baldwin asked when Jaylah
returned home after spending the balance of the day listing her things for sale.

“Oh, they’re not coming. I changed my mind.”

“About moving? Thank goodness! I was hoping you’d stay here instead of running back to London like some teenager.”

Jaylah took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She knew her mother would not take kindly to her new plan, but she
didn’t care.

“I’m going back to London, mom. I just decided to sell my things instead
of storing them. I don’t really need them anyway.”

“Sell your things
?” Mrs. Baldwin huffed. “I thought you were keeping them here? You don’t even know if this whole London thing is permanent.”

“It is,” Jaylah said
, keeping her voice even.

“And what happens if you want to move back, or if you need to come home?”

“Then I’ll come home,” she said, staring directly at her mother. “Daddy likes to park in the garage anyway. My stuff wouldn’t be doing anything but taking up space. And I don’t need it.”

Mrs. Baldwin sucked her teeth
and looked to her husband for backup. He was reading a book in the corner of the room, trying to stay out of his wife and daughter’s disagreement—as usual.

“Jay Jay, I know you think going back to London is a good idea, but your father and I were talking about it, and we think you should stay here. I mean, who’s going to help you with the baby?”

Who says there’ll be a damn baby?!
Jaylah wanted to yell, but decided against it.

“Mom, I know you and dad want the best for me, but I’m a grown up, ok
ay? I have a job there. I have friends. I’ll be fine.” She softened her tone. “And you’re always welcome to come visit.”

“
Friends
,” Mrs. Baldwin spat, “don’t help you raise babies.”

“
If
I decide to have this baby I will have all the help I need, mom.”

“If?” Mrs. Baldwin asked, glaring at her daughter. “You’re still talking about if?”

“Yes, if.”

Jaylah’s mother opened her
mouth to respond, but decided against it. Instead, she called on her husband before leaving. “Joe, please talk some sense into your daughter.”

Mr. Baldwin put his book down and crossed the room to sit on the couch with Jaylah. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut close to his scalp, and his almond-sha
ped eyes, the ones he’d given Jaylah, crinkled as he smiled.

“You know we just want the best for you, baby girl,” he said, patting her on the leg.

“I know, daddy. But mom still treats me like a child. You should have seen her carrying on at the doctor’s office like I was some unfortunate teen mom.”

“I can imagine,” he chuckled, “but this is important stuff. It’s not quite happening how we wante
d, you know. Your mom and I always thought we’d be walking you down the aisle before you had a baby, but things happen. We just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I am, daddy. I’m just not
letting anyone pressure me into motherhood.”

“You got that from me,” he smile
d. “I can be kinda stubborn, too.”

Jaylah stared into her father’s face and saw her own.
Their high cheekbones from her Coushatta great-grandmother, their umber skin that glowed red in the summer, their long, fluid frames. She was definitely her father’s child, and for that, she was thankful.

“Daddy, I know you and mom want me to have this baby, but I feel like my life is just now starting to get on track. Having a baby would totally interrupt it.”

“I understand, baby girl,” he said comforting her with his words.

“How can you? You and mom did it the right way,”
Jaylah said using air quotes.

Her father hesitated, gazing into his daughter’s face before speaking. “I know it seems like that, but things are never simple. Now, your mama and me were always sweet on each other. We grew up together and lived on the
same street, but didn’t start dating until we both ended up at Howard.”

“I know.
I’ve heard this story a million times. You saw each other at a party and have been inseparable ever since.”

“Yeah, well, sorta. But baby, you were a bit of a surprise.”

“A surprise? You guys got married in your senior year and I was born after graduation. How surprising is that? Mom always says she wanted to graduate with her B.A. and her M.R.S.”

Mr. Baldwin chuckled
, shaking his head. “Yes, we were planning on getting married, just not so soon. But your mother found out she was pregnant with you, and—“

“You got married because
mom was pregnant?!”

Jaylah
couldn’t imagine her mother getting knocked up before walking down the aisle. All of the talks about sex her mom had doled out over the years. All of the warnings and the lectures about waiting until she was married before giving away “her precious gift” came flooding back into Jaylah’s brain. If she had ever stopped to do the math—her parents wedding anniversary falling in November, her birthday in June—she would have known something was up. But she didn’t. She never had a reason to question her mother’s words.

“Baby girl, we got married because we loved each other. You just moved up the timeline a bit.”

Jaylah sat stunned. First Johnny had rushed into marrying his wife because she was carrying his child, now this. Was she just falling into some sort of fucked up family cycle—first comes unexpected pregnancy, then marriage?

“Were you scared, dad? Were you worried you were making a huge mistake by getting married because mom was pregnant?”

“Of course I was scared. But we loved each other and had been planning to get married anyway. I just didn’t expect to be a dad so early. We wanted to be married for a few years, travel first, see the world. But it worked out,” he said, giving Jaylah’s hand a squeeze.

She replayed her life looking for signs her parents
only stayed together for her sake. She rarely heard them argue, and they took vacations to Florida or Jamaica or down South every summer.

When she was little
, Jaylah would love watching her parents dance to old Motown tunes in the middle of the living room. They’d look so happy, her dad doing his best two-step, and her mom twirling like a teenage girl. It had been good, right? They seemed to make the right choice.

“So…” Jaylah hesitated,
“if you could do it all over again you wouldn’t change anything?”

“Of course not. I love you and your mother. Being your dad is the best thing that ever happened to me, baby girl,”
he said as his eyes, Jaylah’s eyes, slanted upward as he smiled. “I know you’ve got a lot to consider, and I’m here for you either way. But just know things will work out exactly the way they’re supposed to—no matter what.”

Mr. Baldwin
kissed Jaylah on the forehead, then grabbed his book and headed down the hall. She found comfort in her father’s words and hoped he was right.

“
Things will work out exactly the way they’re supposed to,” she said aloud over and over again, hoping it was true.