Chapter 23

As I sat in front of Roshelle explaining to me why she did what she did, I realized what my sister Silvia had told me was true, Ro was an old salty hating ass bitch. Everything she said that day revolved around what she thought I did and nothing about what she actually had done.

The conversation was going in a circle and it began to serve no purpose. A fool does not delight in understanding only in speaking their own mind, Proverbs 18:2. It was all I could hear as she rambled on with word vomit.

There was never a real apology. That was the last time I saw her before we moved to Tampa, Florida.

As we made our journey down the highway, I understood that certain people would never understand the scope of how badly they hurt you. In their minds, they feel justified in their acts. Those people can have a beautiful life and still feel entitled to yours. Those people are not happy with themselves.

We stopped for a little while at a rest stop to use the restroom. My cell phone chimed. To notify me that my period would start in two days. I looked at myself in the mirror, you better not be pregnant.

I knew Warren would shit a brick. I took a deep breath, “Everything is fine,” I whispered to myself before I left the restroom and walked back to the car.

House shopping. We were on our third day. I was tired of looking at houses. I was ready to say okay to anything. As we walked around a new construction, the smell of fresh paint sent my senses into a frenzy. I suddenly felt a headache brewing.

I rubbed my temples as the woman spoke. They looked at me, “Are you okay Mrs. Wilson,” the realtor asked politely.

“Headache.”

“I have some Tylenol in my car.”

“Oh, no thanks. I’ll be fine,” I replied. I hated taking meds. I knew I was just tired and hungry.

Warren rubbed my back, “You wanna run and get something to eat?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

He turned to her, “We’ll let you know something after lunch if that’s okay?”

“It sure is.”

We left the beautiful four-bedroom home with three- and one-half baths and went to a local spot to eat. After lunch, I did feel a little better. Warren called and told the realtor we wanted the home.

It was bitter/sweet. My sister was back at my old duty station and so were Diego and Little D. I missed them but I’d still get to see them when they visited, of course, Diego didn’t want anything to do with Warren. So, I’d have to see them out at a hotel or something.

I was also farther away from my parents. I wanted that closeness that Manny had with his family. I wanted my parents to be near me. They said they’d consider moving to Florida. It was warmer and there was plenty do to in the area.

By mid-October, we were in our new home and pressing forward. As I lay in bed with Warren kissing my mouth as he stroked my middle, I held onto him tightly. We had vowed to leave what happened with our affairs in the past and move forward but there was one little surprise that I never expected.

What happened in Cancun was right there with me. Growing inside my womb. Surprise, you can get pregnant. Your husband was just shooting blanks for two years. How was I going to tell him?

I felt his speed increase. “Oh, fuck Jackie, aghhhhh,” he grunted and then hummed. He rolled off me and lay to my left. “You okay, babe?” he asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to go take a shower,” I said as I left the bed.

As I showered, I rubbed my belly. I wasn’t showing but it felt hard. I knew any day, my secret would be revealed and unlike someone who shall remain nameless, I didn’t want to pretend as if the baby I was carrying was my husband’s. Not only because it was dishonest and hurtful but because he would have called bull shit as soon as the baby left my womb.

I was a pretty caramel tone and Warren was slightly darker than me. I was certain he’d expect his babies to be at least a cinnamon color. There was just no way of being certain. I had to tell him.

I decided I’d wait until after he got off work. It didn’t make sense to ruin his morning when he was in such a good mood.

I had to call my mother. I was hoping she could provide me with valuable insight. My mind kept telling me there was no way Warren would be understanding. And if his mother found out, that’d be fuel for her fire and give her more reason to dislike me.

My mother was silent for a while before she spoke, “It’s in the Lord’s hands now.”

‘Seriously mom, is that all you got?”

“Yes. It is. I have no idea how Warren is going to react to this news ... I mean are you certain that you’re even pregnant?” she asked.

“Mom. Yes. I took three pregnancy tests.”

“Those things aren’t always accurate. You should see a doctor first.”

“I haven’t had a period in two months.”

She was silent and then she sighed, “Whatever happens, I’m still your mother.”

“Thanks, ma.”

Then I heard the excitement in her voice, “A lil grandbaby. I can’t wait—”

“Mom.”

“I’m just so happy for you baby. I’m going to tell your daddy we need to move down there.”

We spoke a little longer and then the call ended. The rest of the day, I played out various scenarios. Some were very hopeful, you know, I’d give my speech about how much I loved him and how much we had already been through, and then he’d reply, “It’s okay babe, it’s team us, forever.”

Then there was, “It doesn’t matter. I love you anyway. I’ll raise the baby as if it’s my own.”

On the dark side, there was, “Oh no the fuck you didn’t.”

Or, “You gotta be kidding me. Unfucking believable. No. I want a divorce, yesterday.”

I looked at my Apple watch. The time drew near. I heard the garage door and moments later he entered wearing his uniform. He saw the disturbed look on my face, “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“We need to talk.”

He let out a deep sigh, “Why do I feel like this is something I’m not going to want to hear? If it’s about that Mexican dude ... I don’t want to hear shit—”

I was quiet. He was quiet. He huffed, “So, are we done?”

I shook my head, “I’m pregnant.” It just fell out of my mouth.

He was frozen, then confused, then mad, then confused again, “How?”

“I am. I haven’t had my period in two months.”

I could see him mentally doing the math, “So wow, I thought—”

“I can. I took three tests, and all three were positive.”

“So, you’re trying to tell me for two years we’ve been trying to get pregnant and you went to Mexico for one month, and boom ... you can’t make this shit up, you couldn’t use a fucking condom?”

“Did you use condoms when you were fucking Ro?”

He was silent. Then he spoke, “Just have another abortion.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because”

“Because ... we’re finally getting our lives back and now this ... some Hispanic dude ... no one’s going to believe that baby is mine. Come on Jackie.”